
Qass. 



Book. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



RECOLLECTIONS OF THIRTEEN 
PRESIDENTS 



// 



Recollections of 
Thirteen Presidents 



By 



John S. Wise 

Author of "The Lion's Skin," 

"The End of an Era," 

"Diomed," etc. 



/ 



Illustrated 




New York 

Doubleday, Page & Company 

1906 



Copyright, 1905, by 
The Curtis Publishing Company 



Copyright, 1906, by 

Doubleday, Page & Company 

Published, May, 1906 



^11 r:g;hts reserved^ 

including that of translation into foreign language!, 

including the Scandinavian. 



LIBRARY Of CONGRESS 

Two Oouief rteceiveo 
MAY d 1906 

Couyriprni tntry 



c/ass CC 'i'^^'-j.^" 



\c, No, 



INTRODUCTION 

Since the adoption of the Constitution of the 
United States in 1789 twenty-six individuals have 
been Presidents in this country, of whom twenty- 
five were Presidents of the United States, and one 
of the Confederate States. Here they are : 

1. Washington, from 1789 to 1797. 

2. John Adams, from 1797 to 1801. 

3. Thomas Jefferson, from 1801 to 1809. 

4. James Madison, from 1809 to 181 7. 

5. James Monroe, from 1817 to 1825. 

6. John Quincy Adams, from 1825 to 1829. 

7. Andrew Jackson, from 1829 to 1837. . 

8. Martin Van Buren, from 1837 to 1841. 

9. WilHam Henry Harrison, from 1841 until 
his death. 

10. John Tyler, from 1841 to 1845. 

11. James K. Polk, from 1845 to 1849. 

12. Zachary Taylor, from 1849 until his death. 

13. Millard Filmore, from 1850 to 1853. 

14. Franklin Pierce, from 1853 to 1857. 

15. James Buchanan, from 1857 to 1861. 

16. Abraham Lincoln, from 1861 until his death. 

17. Andrew Johnson, from 1865 to 1869. 

18. Ulysses S. Grant, from 1869 to 1877. 

19. Rutherford B. Hayes, from 1877 to 1881. 

20. James A. Garfield, from 1881 until his death. 

21. Chester A. Arthur, from 1881 to 1885. 

- 22. Grover Cleveland, from 1885 to 1889 and 
1893 to 1897. 



23- Benjamin Harrison, from 1889 to 1893. 

24. William McKinley, from 1897 until his 
death. 

25. Theodore Roosevelt, from 1902 to date. 

26. Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederate 
States of America, from 1861 to 1865. 

The statement made by any man that he has 
personally known one-half of these statesmen is 
calculated to create the impression that he is old. 
Yet before I was fifty-five years old I had per- 
sonal acquaintance with John Tyler, Franklin 
Pierce, James Buchanan, Jefferson Davis, Andrew 
Johnson, Ulysses S. Grant, Rutherford B. Hayes, 
James A. Garfield, Chester A. Arthur, Grover 
Cleveland, Benjamin Harrison, William McKinley 
and Theodore Roosevelt. 

Believing that the following reminiscences and 
anecdotes of these men will prove interesting, they 
have been written with no ambitious purpose and 
perhaps originated in personal vanity. But even 
if that be so, it is hoped that they will nevertheless 
prove entertaining to that large class which is 
always interested in the personalities of prominent 
men. 

The reader will catch glimpses of these great 
men quite different from their presentation by the 
ordinary historian or biographer, and may form 
some idea of how they looked and how they acted 
in everyday life, without seeing too much of their 
greatness or their plans of government. 

He will be quick to discern also, the difference 
between the impressions made by the oldest upon 
a child, and those made in later years upon a man. 
Still later upon a contemporary — and lastly by a 
President who is younger than the writer. 



Without more of introduction let us proceed 
with the description, after noting one single reflec- 
tion. We often hear the term " accident" applied 
to men of great political prominence. There may 
be, and doubtless are, instances of such accidents; 
but none of the men who have attained to the 
Presidency of the United States, whether by elec- 
tion or succession, or to the Presidency of the 
dead Confederacy, were either "accidental" or 
ordinary men. 

Every one of them has possessed individuality, 
strength of character, commanding personality 
and dominating force, which stamped him as far 
and away above mediocrity, and so marked him 
as a leader, that to refer to him as an ordinary man 
elevated to his position by accident, is grossly er- 
roneous, or weakly invidious; for men do not 
attain positions of such importance by accident. 
Some great quality, whether of heroism or states- 
manship or popularity or political management, 
leads to their preferment. No verse in poetry ever 
written expressed the truth more forcibly than the 
lines — 

"The heights by great men reached and kept 
Were not attained by sudden flight, 
But they while their companions slept 
Were toiling upward in the night. " 



CHAPTSR 




I. 


John Tyler . 


II. 


Franklin Pierce 


III. 


James Buchanan . 


IV. 


Jefferson Davis 


V. 


Andrew Johnson . 


VI. 


Ulysses S. Grant 


VII. 


Rutherford B. Hayes 


VIII. 


James A. Garfield . 


IX. 


Chester A. Arthur . 


X. 


Grover Cleveland 


XI. 


Benjamin Harrison 


XII. 


William McKinley 


XIII. 


Theodore Roosevelt . 



3 
35 
53 
67 . 

lOI 

115 
133 
145 
155 
171 f 

195 - 
213 . 

237 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Theodore Roosevelt (1902 to ) . . Frontispiece 



John Tyler (1841-45) 

Henry A. Wise (Statesman and Orator, Born Dec. 3 

1806; Died Sept. 12, 1876) .... 

Franklin Pierce (1853-57) .... 

James Buchanan (1857-61) .... 

Miss Harriet Lane (Mistress of the White House 
(1857-61) 



FACING PAGE 
4 



Jefferson Davis (First and only President of the Con 
federacy, ( 1861-65) 

Andrew Johnson (1865-69) .... 

Ulysses S. Grant (1869-77) .... 

Rutherford Birchard Hayes (1877-81) . 

James Abram Garfield (1881 until his death) . 

Chester A. Arthur (1881-85) . . . . 

Grover Cleveland (1885-89 and 1893-97) 

Benjamin Harrison (1889-93) .... 

William McKinley (1897 until his death) 

Mark Hanna (U. S. Senator from Ohio) 



8 

54 
58 

68 
102 
116 

134 
146 
156 
172 
196 
214 
218 



JOHN TYLER 



I.-JOHN TYLER 

OH ! FOR an hour of the happy childhood in 
which I first laid eyes upon ex-President 
Tyler. It was in the early fifties. I 
was a little bit of a freckled-faced boy, with the 
skin peeling off my nose and sun-blisters on 
my mouth, bare-footed and bare-headed. My 
father, w^ho was devoted to his children and loved 
their companionship, had taken me with him 
upon a fishing trip to the Virginia Capes. We 
had spent a glorious week upon a sloop, and I 
had fished and bathed and run about upon the 
shore until I was burned and blistered. When 
the time came for our return to civilisation my 
underwear was a veritable shirt of Nessus upon 
my blistered back, and Jim, my father's valet, 
spent hours smearing me with buttermilk and 
other remedies to alleviate the pain before I could 
wear my shirt with any comfort. When our 
excursion was ended our sloop, in order to save 
time, sailed out in the Chesapeake Bay from 
Fisherman's Inlet at the point of Cape Charles, 
hailed the Northampton which plied daily between 
Cherrystone upon the Eastern Shore and Old 
Point Comfort, and our party was transferred 
in the middle of Chesapeake Bay, leaving our 



4 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

sailing vessel to return at her leisure. The bay 
was rough and the transfer was no easy matter, 
with the sloop and steamer bobbing up and 
down, side by side. I hesitated about making 
the leap from our boat to the steamer. My 
father had no patience with timidity. After I 
had blinked one or two good opportunities to 
jump, he lost patience, seized me by the collar 
and seat of my trousers and tossed me mer- 
cilessly across the boiling waters into the arms 
of a sailor standing at the gangway. Safely 
aboard, we soon reached Old Point, and thence 
she headed for Hampton, at which point boats 
in those days touched on their way to Norfolk. 

Old Point was nothing like it is now. None 
of the great hotels were built. The old Hygeia 
located near the sally-port of the fortress, was a 
small affair. Few of the officers' quarters now 
seen outside the fort were built. The causeway 
which now leads to Phoebus was not constructed. 
Land was reached by a long bridge. Where the 
town of Phoebus is now built up was farming 
land. A small female college occupied the present 
site of the Soldiers' Home. There were no 
railroads of any kind upon the whole peninsula 
between the York and James, and upon the great 
Newport News plantation, now the site of the 
thriving city with ship yards and a population 
of thousands, not a dozen people, white and 
black, resided. Hampton was the only place in 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 5 

the vicinity of Fortress Monroe with any con- 
siderable population. That old settlement ante- 
dates the first coming of the English, for when 
John Smith and his companions arrived at Point 
Comfort in April of 1607 they found on the 
present site of Hampton the thriving Indian 
village of Kickotan, and often returned there 
from Jamestown, in the "starving time," to buy 
com from the Indians. I remember that my 
father pointed out to me then, or at some other 
time, the place at which John Smith, in his 
narrative, claimed to have shot an immense 
number of wild fowl, in company with two com- 
panions, when he went to Hampton to buy corn 
in the winter of 1608. While, with a boy's 
eagerness, I was taking in all the points of interest, 
the wind blew my hat overboard, for which my 
father gave me a sound lecture about carelessness, 
not ended when the steamer slowed up at the 
Hampton Wharf. There, among the crowd wait- 
ing for the steamer, stood a striking-looking old 
gentleman, whose face, the instant he saw my 
father upon the deck, beamed with recognition, 
and to whose joyous greetings my father made 
prompt reply, forgetting all about the lecture 
on the loss of my hat in his delight at meeting an 
old friend. 

"Why, there is President Tyler," he exclaimed. 
But that annoimcement was hardly necessary, 
for those around Mr. Tyler were bidding him 



6 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

good-bye with such cordiahty and showing him 
such marked deference and attention that there 
was no mistaking his being an unusually important 
personage. 

As soon as the gangplank was down he came 
aboard and hurried up to the promenade deck 
where we were. He and my father greeted each 
other with almost boyish ardour. He was then 
over sixty years old. Yet, as I remember him, 
he mounted the companion-way with a step almost 
agile, and his voice, while rather thin and high 
and piping, was exceedingly agreeable and sym- 
pathetic. 

Mr. Tyler was, in appearance, of the old- 
fashioned type of country gentleman then quite 
common but nowadays almost extinct. Occasion- 
ally one comes across it, even to this day, in 
the Middle West, but rarely elsewhere. He was a 
tall, thin, fiat, clean-shaven man, attired in neat 
but not over-new black broadcloth. He wore 
a standing collar, open at the throat, with a soft 
black neckcloth with long pointed ends. His 
waistcoat was cut low, displaying a spotless shirt 
bosom of fine material. I think he wore calfskin 
boots. I remember being as much impressed 
by his narrow, fiat feet and long, thin fingers as 
by his striking face. His head was well turned 
and carried high upon a thin but muscular neck. 
The Adam's apple at the throat was prominent, 
and, in its constant play, an object well calculated 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 7 

to fix the absorbed attention of the small boy. 
He had a high, receding forehfead, from which his 
thin light hair, not very gray, was brushed back, 
a prominent beak-like Roman nose, and a chin not 
strong and aggressive enough to suit my ideal of 
to-day. His eye, blue as I remember it, was 
open, bright, clear and kind, and his mouth 
firm and pure and sweet in expression. Goodness 
and kindness and love and sympathy for his 
neighbours enveloped him like an atmosphere, 
and few men came under the spell of his personal 
attractiveness without feeling kindly toward Mr. 
Tyler, whether they agreed with his political 
views or not. I think this indescribable sympathy 
and charity for all mankind was one of the most 
potent factors in his political triumphs. He 
was sixteen years older than my father, so that 
when he attained the Presidency in 1841, at the 
age of fifty-one, my father, then in Congress, 
was but thirty -five, a difference in age which 
seems much greater at that period in life than 
when men grow older together. 

When Harrison and Tyler were candidates my 
father was a fiery, impetuous, eloquent young 
Whig representative in Congress from Virginia, 
who had denounced Van Burenism with all the 
power of his fierce invective. He went in the 
Harrison and Tyler coalition of 1840 with heart 
and soul, to accomplish the overthrow of what 
was known as the " Spoils" system of the Democ- 



8 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

racy. Heartily with him, but upon much more 
conservative Unes, was his father-in-law and my 
grandfather, John Sergeant of Philadelphia, who 
was also a Whig member of the lower House. 
Mr. Sergeant was at that time over sixty years 
of age ; a thorough paced Federalist ; a Bank man ; 
a devoted admirer of Henry Clay; and a Whig 
who centred all his hopes upon the election of 
General Harrison. 

A coalition between the Whigs and the Anti- 
Van Buren Democrats was the only means by 
which the defeat of Van Buren could be accom- 
plished. That coalition was brought about by 
the selection of John Tyler of Virginia, an Anti- 
Van Buren Democrat, as the candidate for Vice- 
President upon the ticket with General Harrison, 
whose antecedents were Whig and Federalist. 

The record of Mr. Tyler was perfectly well known 
when he was nominated. My father, his fellow 
Virginian and personal friend, saw in him the 
material for strengthening the coalition and, 
from the Whig side, was largely instrumental in 
securing his nomination. It brought to the sup- 
port of the movement many votes which would 
not have been cast for it otherwise. Everybody 
remembers the coon-skin and hard-cider campaign 
of 1840. "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" swept 
the country. 

My father in that campaign made his famous 
speech, in which he uttered the sentiment, "The 




' ^y^>r....y. //>^. 



HENRY A. WISE 
Statesman and Orator. Born December 3, 1806; died September 12, 1876. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 9 

union of the Whigs for the sake of the Union." 
He was himself re-elected to Congress from 
Virginia, and m}^ grandfather, Mr. Sergeant, an 
ardent supporter of Harrison and Tyler, was also 
re-elected, without opposition, from the old silk- 
stocking district in Philadelphia. 

Up to this time General Harrison was of course 
the dominant figure in the movement. Mr. 
Tyler was a mere incident. The Whig triumph 
seemed complete, for, even had Mr. Tyler been 
disposed to antagonise Whig policies or measures, 
he could not have accomplished much in the 
position of Vice-President. It is not likely, how- 
ever, that if General Harrison had lived there 
would have been any friction between Mr. Tyler 
and the Whig party. While as Vice-President 
he might not have become champion of their 
bank and tariff views, he would not, perhaps, 
have made any assault upon them, and would 
have contented himself with vigorous advocacy 
of other reform measures, directed against abuses 
which had led to the popular uprising against 
Van Burenism. 

Never were the hopes of the Whig party so high 
as when General Harrison was inaugurated. He was 
an old man, not much of a politician. He was a 
pronounced Whig and a great admirer of Mr. Clay. 
Clay was the idol of the Whigs. His hold upon 
them was something marvellous. The secret of 
that hold is almost incomprehensible in our day. 



lo RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Mr. Clay was a passionate, dissipated man, of 
exceedingly boisterous and loose modes of living, 
often indulging in carouses and excesses which 
would have alienated and driven away conserva- 
tive support from almost anyone else. But his 
excesses, instead of sapping his influence and 
alienating his Puritan following, seemed to draw 
it closer to him. It was deaf to all suggestions 
of his fallibility. My grandfather was a con- 
spicuous instance of this. He was a formal, 
undemonstrative Philadelphia lawyer of Puritan 
antecedents; had begun life under a Quaker; 
had grown up in the strictest abstinence and self- 
denial, and lived in an atmosphere of temperate, 
cleanly domestic life. In business he was a 
model of precision and punctiliousness. He and 
his neighbour, Horace Binney, between whom 
and himself a life-long intimacy existed, were 
preeminently types of that frugal, industrious, 
studious, ever- watchful man of the time de- 
scribed by the then popular phrase " a Philadelphia 
lawyer." He participated in political struggles 
as much from a sense of duty as from any desire 
for their honours. The emoluments were far 
below those of professional employments which 
he abandoned temporarily in order to discharge, 
as he understood it, the obligations of good 
citizenship. So distinguished was he for these 
Spartan qualities, the very opposites of Mr. Clay, 
that he was chosen as the running mate of Mr. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS ii 

Clay in the Presidential campaign of 1832. The 
ticket was Clay and Sergeant. The eccentricities 
of Mr. Clay did not in the least degree alienate 
or weaken the admiration and devotion to him 
of Mr. Sergeant. 

" Gallant Harry of the West," as he was called by 
his followers, might spend half the year in Washing- 
ton, drinking brandy, playing "lou" and "brag" 
and "faro," horse racing, fighting and fomenting 
duels, contracting debts he could not pay, indul- 
ging in any and all the exuberant dissipations which 
his recklessness suggested, while men of the type 
of Mr. Sergeant led their simple, frugal, virtuous, 
orderly lives, with almost ascetic ideals of temper- 
ance and order in social life and business. They 
might cross off from their Puritan ledgers others 
who did not conform to their rigorous standards, 
which were, in general, narrow, uncompromising 
and exacting. 

But there was one man to whose shortcomings 
they were deaf and dumb, and that was Henry 
Clay. His brilliant talents never failed to summon 
them to arms, like a beacon set upon a hill- 
top for the gathering of the Highland clans. 
To the day of his death, there was never a moment 
when they did not answer his call with the bound- 
ing loyalty of clansmen flocking to standard at 
sight of the burnt-cross signal sent forth by 
Rhoderick Dhu. 

The election of General Harrison was believed 



12 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

by the Whigs to mark the inauguration of all 
their pet poHcies of bank and tariff. 

They had absolute faith in the efficacy of those 
measures. The future seemed full of promise. 
Mr. Clay was their high priest. With him to 
frame and secure the passage of these laws, and 
with a pliant executive to approve and enforce 
them, they anticipated first an era of great 
prosperity to the country; after that the delayed 
reward of their idol, Clay, by electing him on 
the strength of successful administration to the 
Presidency ; and, finally, a long lease of power to 
the Whig party. It was an intoxicating hope 
rudely shattered by an unexpected event. And 
the bitterness attending the reaction was terrific. 
■ General Harrison was sixty-eight years old 
when elected. He had led a life of great exposure 
and was decrepit beyond his years. He was 
literally hand-shaken to death by his exuberant 
friends within one month after his inauguration. 

At the time this occurred Mr. Tyler resided in 
Williamsburg, Virginia. He was a man of simple 
domestic tastes with no talent for money -making. 
It is a tribute to his honesty that although he 
and his father before him had been in public life 
for many years, with many opportunities, to make 
money, he was poor. Among his most intimate 
friends at the time was the late William S. Peachy, 
a distinguished lawyer of the old "burg," and a 
connection of mine by marriage. The people 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 13 

of Williamsburg were devoted to Mr. Tyler, and 
cherished his memory as one of the most lovable 
men who ever resided there. Mr. Peachy had an 
inexhaustible store of anecdotes and reminiscences 
concerning him. This is the story of his accession 
to the Presidency, as told to me by Mr. Peachy: 

After the inauguration Mr. Tyler had returned 
from Washington to Williamsburg. His life at 
his home was most unpretentious. There were 
no railroads, and it required several days to 
travel from Washington to Williamsburg. The 
turmoil of the capitol was unknown and almost 
unheard of in the primitive community of Williams- 
burg, and one bright April afternoon Mr. Tyler, 
who delighted in the companionship of his boys, 
was engaged with them in a game of marbles in a 
pathway leading to his home. The spot, pointed 
out to me by Mr. Peachy, is not far from the site 
of the old Revolutionary powder magazine. 
Peachy, who was a young lawyer, with residence 
and office not far distant, had been attracted to 
the scene of the game by the hilarity of Mr. 
Tyler and his sons. They were playing the old- 
fashioned game of "knucks" and the infliction of 
the well-known penalties made them all boisterous. 
Mr. Tyler had to take his punishment along with 
the others, and when it was his turn to put up 
the "knucks" his boys reveled in the oppor- 
tunity. He had lost and was actually down 
upon his knee with knuckles upon the ground, 



14 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

taking his medicine stoicalty amidst the shouts of 
the by-standers, when a stranger drove up and 
inquired for "the President." Mr. Tyler arose 
and told him who he was, not appropriating to 
himself the title, and assuming that it was applied 
to him by mistake. The stranger, without more 
ado, delivered his dispatches, which were in deep 
mourning, and a moment later Mr. Tyler, after 
breaking the seals and reading, started and 
exclaimed in great distress, " My God, the President 
is dead! " It was the first intimation that anyone 
in Williamsburg had that General Harrison was 
even indisposed. The dispatch bearer had been 
sent by a chartered sailboat direct from Washing- 
ton to Yorktown, and thence made his way by 
vehicle to Williamsburg. One may well imagine 
the different kinds of startling effects upon the 
people produced by this announcement. Up to 
that time no President had died in office during 
the fifty-two years in which the Government had 
existed. Nobody had seriously considered the 
likelihood of this contingency, especially so soon 
after the inauguration. It was a great and novel 
national calamity. But, great as its effects were 
elsewhere, it was an astounding thing to Mr. 
Tyler himself, and to his neighbours and associates, 
to find that in an instant, at a time when he had 
no thought of such a thing, he had been trans- 
formed by accident from the tertium quid of the 
Vice-Presidency into a full-fledged President. Mr. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 15 

Peachy said he betra3^ed unaffected distress, and had 
no thought apparently of how the event changed 
his own fortunes. He at once returned to his 
house, with the tears streaming down his face, 
for he was a man of deep emotions and was 
sincerely attached to the deceased President. 
Later in the evening he wrote a note requesting 
Mr. Peachy to come to his residence. Upon 
arrival there Peachy found him arranging for an 
immediate departure for Washington by the same 
boat that had brought the news of General Harri- 
son's death. After some general conversation, 
the President confided to him, with manifest 
embarrassment, that he did not have the means 
necessary to defray the expenses of his journey 
to Washington, and inquired whether he could 
help him out of his difficulties. Peachy laughed 
at his anxiety, and promptly replied that it was 
an easy matter to arrange. 

There was in Williamsburg then, as there always 
is in places like it, a thrifty merchant, who was 
the money-lender and banker of the community. 
There was no doubt of his ability to furnish all 
the money requisite, and Mr. Peachy, after sug- 
gesting this, offered to call upon him and obtain 
the requisite loan. The President hesitated and 
said, " Yes, I have a note from him already, 
offering me all the mone}^ I need. But," he 
added, after an embarrassed pause, pushing the 
note to Mr. Peachy, "I would rather not take it 



1 6 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

from him if I can arrange it otherwise, for, to be 
frank with you, Peachy, some months ago, when 
I needed money badly, I tried to borrow it from 
him and he refused me peremptorily, I could 
not offer the security then which I can now. Of 
course he had a right to refuse me, but it mortified 
me nevertheless; and, now, I would rather not 
place myself under obligations to him when the 
reason of the change in his attitude is so plain." 

It is needless to add that the money was forth- 
coming from other sources. 

Mr. Clay never accepted the conditions arising 
from General Harrison's death. He preferred to 
assume that Tyler belonged to the Whig party, 
with all the obligations of General Harrison 
resting upon him. As the Whig party really 
belonged to Henry Clay, Tyler was, that being 
true, as much an asset for administration as the 
good old Indian fighter Harrison would have 
been if he had lived. So Clay proceeded to 
formulate the Whig measures which Harrison 
would have approved, and when Tyler refused 
to approve them Clay denounced him as having 
betrayed Whig principles ; and all the other Whigs, 
great and small, throughout the land joined in the 
chorus, until the world for a time believed that 
John Tyler was lineal descendant and administra- 
tor de bonis non of Judas Iscariot, deceased. 

Clay was a royal old bully and drove the steel 
home into Tyler with all his might and main, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 17 

and John Minor Botts, a Whig congressman from 
the Richmond district in Virginia, proclaimed 
that he would " Head Captain Tyler or die," and 
Mr. Sergeant glowered upon him as upon an 
apostate. But they never did head Captain 
Tyler, and they never shook him in his resolution. 
They accused him of trying to "Tylerise" the 
Whig party. But they never succeeded in " Whig- 
izing" the party named Tyler. The result of 
the great " Tippecanoe and Tyler too" combination 
was that it met the ordinary fate of incongruous 
coalitions, and its members fought each other; 
but when the breach came the element which, 
according to the usual course, naturally becomes 
the servient element became, by an accident, the 
dominant element. 

How can any man be a traitor to principles 
he never espoused? Tyler never was a Whig. 
He never pretended to be anything but a Demo- 
crat. He was not nominated as a Whig but as 
an Anti-Spoils Democrat, in coalition with Whigs 
and other disaffected Democrats, the object 
being to attract still other Democrats to the 
coalition in numbers sufficient to defeat the 
organization Democrats, who advocated the doc- 
trine "To the Victors belong the Spoils." 

The only principle of Whiggery which Tyler 
espoused when he accepted the coalition nomina- 
tion was that for which the coalition was formed, 
and by which alone it was practicable, to wit: 



i8 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

the breaking down of the spoils system of Democ- 
racy, inaugurated by Jackson and in full force 
under Van Buren. 

It was demanding too much of Tyler to insist 
that, upon other questions about which he had 
never agreed with Whig doctrine, he should 
abandon the convictions of a lifetime and approve 
measures merely because General Harrison, if he 
had lived, would have registered the dictates of 
the Whig autocrat Clay, 

So Tyler and his party, if such it may be called, 
were soon together by the ears, in one of the most 
virulent political contests of the century. And 
he had very few friends left in or out of Congress. 
The Democrats rejoiced at his dilemma, because 
they looked upon him as a deserter from them; 
and the Whigs, frantic at his obstinacy, pretended 
to regard him as a traitor. His friends in Congress 
were so few that they were called the " Corporal's 
Guard," and at the head of them was my father. 
His championship of Mr. Tyler was in my opinion, 
from a political standpoint, the most disastrous 
step of his political life and the costliest to him; 
but it was infinitely to the credit of his heart and 
in keeping with his innate chivalric repugnance 
to wrong and outrage. In all his antecedents 
he had been a Whig. He had opposed the 
Democratic doctrine of nullification and voted for 
Andrew Jackson. His championship of Tyler 
ultimately led him into affiliation with the Democ- 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 19 

racy. I believe that, but for his championship of 
Tyler and the course into which that led him, he 
would have remained for life a Union man and 
that he might have attained to any ofhce in the 
gift of the people. But he loved Tyler and 
Tyler loved him. They were fellow Virginians. 
He knew just what circumstances had led to 
Tyler's nomination, and just what pledges Tyler 
had and had not given. He deplored, as much 
as anybody, the death of General Harrison, but 
he denied that it imposed upon Tyler any obliga- 
tion to stultify himself in order to avoid Henry 
Clay's anger. Moreover, Mr. Clay had, as my 
father believed, done him a grievous wrong in 
trying to shift to him responsibility for the Graves- 
Cilley duel, and he thought the wrong Clay was 
now seeking to inflict upon Tyler was character- 
istic of Mr. Clay's unfair nature. This intensified 
his championship of his lovable and much- traduced 
neighbour and friend. Mr. Tyler, although a 
man of more than mediocre abilities, was not, 
in my opinion, as great a man as my father 
always thought him ; but he was a good man and a 
grateful man. He remembered my father's un- 
selfish friendship, loved him tenderly to the 
day of his death, and admired him extravagantly. 
He spoke of him always as a gallant, impetuous 
boy. When I saw them meet, one nearly seventy 
and the other over fifty, it was like a meeting 
between a loving father and son. And well might 



20 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Mr. Tyler esteem tiim highly, for he had cham- 
pioned his cause without once counting the cost. 
One day in the House of Representatives my 
grave old grandfather, on the line pressed by 
Clay in the Senate, attacked Mr. Tyler. The 
debate was proceeding under the five minutes' 
rule. His points were strong and trenchant. 
Up to that time the relations between my father 
and grandfather had been as cordial as possible. 
While the latter was a man of deep affection, he 
was a dignified, reserved man, and exacted the 
utmost courtesy and respect from everybody, 
particularly from members of his own family. 
Anything like discourtesy or a lack of deference 
offended him deeply, and, once offended, he was 
slow to forgive or forget. ' 

He was a trenchant debater, and what he 
said was caustic and telling. In his dispassion- 
ate way he spoke beyond the time limit of debate. 
My father, who in a fight neither asked nor 
showed quarter, was managing the Tyler side 
of the debate, and raised the point of order upon 
my grandfather. When the point was raised, 
my grandfather turned to the direction whence 
it came, saw who made it, and took his seat 
without another word. He never referred to the 
episode but once, and that was five years after- 
ward. We shall see how. Soon after this a 
vacancy occurring in the Supreme Court, 
Mr. Tyler, through my father, tendered the 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 21 

appointment to Mr. Sergeant, but he declined it 
and suggested Mr. Binney. Mr. Binney declined 
it and suggested Mr. Sergeant. The bitter and 
protracted conflict between Mr. Tyler and Con- 
gress nearly destroyed my father's health. His 
ph3^sicians demanded that, upon peril of his 
life, he should not continue, but take a rest 
from active politics and seek a Southern climate. 
Mr. Tyler, who was devoted to "Wise," as 
he always affectionately called him, nominated 
him to be Minister to France. The Senate, in 
this as in nearly everything else recommended 
by Mr. Tyler, refused to concur. Then Mr. 
Tyler gave him the choice between Portugal and 
Brazil. He selected Brazil, and the Senate, 
while unwilling to give him so rich a plum as 
France, was glad enough to be rid of him in the 
House by confirming his appointment to the 
Brazilian mission. He went there and spent 
three 3^ears fighting the odious African slave trade, 
regained his health and, after Polk's election, was 
recalled at his own request. While Mr. Tyler 
was President, being a widower, he married a 
beautiful young creature, Julia Gardiner. She 
was daughter of a New York gentleman who 
lost his life in the lamentable explosion which 
occurred on the Princeton frigate. The Pres- 
ident and a number of his guests were aboard 
to witness the test of a new gun called the 
"Peacemaker." The gun burst, killing Secretary 



22 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Upshur, Secretary Gilmer, Mr. Gardiner and 
several others. The marriage was a very happy 
one. Mrs. Tyler was still a young and beautiful 
woman when I first remember her. Her life 
with Mr. Tyler was a perpetual love affair, and she 
bore him a number of children. She was a 
charming woman and an excellent politician. 
She survived him many years, and when, long 
after the war, the proposition to pension Mrs. 
Garfield came up, she had the sense and influence 
to insist that the bill should be made to include 
herself as the widow of President Tyler, as well as 
Mrs. Garfield. So that she had in her old age, 
thanks be to God and her own ability, a comfort- 
able provision. 

My father and Mr. Tyler had many jokes together 
over the latter's marriage, one of which never 
failed to make Mr. Tyler roar and turn red in the 
face and wipe his eyes with his handkerchief, 
with protestations that "Wise" had told it until 
he believed it. It was this. Mr. Tyler had lived 
a cheerless, solitary life in the White House until 
his love affair with Miss Gardiner. One day, 
shortly before my father's departure for Brazil, 
the President invited him to drive with him, and 
after a good deal of circumlocution confessed that 
he had won the affections of Miss Julia Gardmer and 
expected to marry her. He sought my father's 
opinion, for it was too late for advice. Having 
heard his stor)^ told with all the ludicrousness of 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 23 

the proverbial "old fool the biggest fool in the 
world," my father told him the following story, 
of which Mr. John Y. Mason was the sponsor. 

An old gentleman in south-side Virginia called 
his house servant Toney into conference about his 
proposed marriage to a young girl. " She's too 
young for you, Marster," was his blunt reply. 
"Nonsense," said the master indignantly; "I'm 
not too old for any young girl, Toney, I'm in my 
prime." "Yes, sir," responded Toney, "I knows 
you is in yo' prime. But dat aint de question. 
When she is in her prime, whar will yd' prime heV 

This suggestive anecdote did not deter Mr. 
Tyler. He was married to Miss Gardiner soon 
afterward. A kind Providence spared him and 
his beautiful young wife to each other for seventeen 
years of singularly happy married life, something 
over half of which had gone by when I first saw 
them. He was then very proud of her, and they 
were as devoted to each other as young lovers. 

Mr. Peachy greatly enjoyed describing a visit 
which he once made to Mr. Tyler in the Wliite 
House before his marriage when the battle with 
the Senate was fiercest. The animosity of Con- 
gress against Tyler was so intense that it even 
descended to the meanness of refusing to vote 
appropriations for repairs or furnishings for the 
White House, and the place was actually shabby. 

Mr. Tyler was the last man on earth to feel any 
resentment at this. In his simple life it made 



24 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

no difference to him whether the place was gilded 
or tarnished. He cared nothing for display, and, 
while he waged his war with undismayed courage 
against overwhelming odds, it left little trace upon 
the sweetness of his disposition. Mr. Peachy sent 
up his card one morning, fearing he might disturb 
the President in his busy work. A messenger 
promptly returned and ushered him without 
ceremony into the presence of the President. He 
found him immersed in a great mass of papers 
and documents, with clerks and scriveners and 
what not, preparing answers to unfriendly Con- 
gressional inquiries. Mr. Tyler, as soon as he 
saw him enter, dropped his work, advanced toward 
him with a bright welcome, and extended both 
hands. Seeing how busy he was, Mr. Peachy 
insisted that he had merely called to pay his 
respects, and would withdraw. "No, no, no," 
remonstrated the President. "The face of a 
friend from home is a sight for sore eyes. Peachy. 
I will not let you go." So they had a few words 
together. But Peachy, who was himself a busy 
Chancery practitioner, knew what interruptions 
like this meant, and at last succeeded in retiring, 
under solemn promise to return and dine with 
Mr. Tyler. 

At the hour appointed he was ushered un- 
ceremoniously into the same room and found the 
President still up to his eyes in work. " Sit 
down, sit down," said he cheerily. "All will soon 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 25 

be through." It was perhaps half an hour before 
the President, in his characteristic kindly way, 
dismissed his assistants, and turning to Peachy 
with the air of a boy let out from school exclaimed, 
" Now, Peachy, work is done and we'll have a 
good time together for the remainder of the day." 

Truth is Mr. Tyler cared nothing himself for 
eating and drinking. Politics he loved, and in 
them he found his meat and drink. His food was 
the merest unimportant incident in existence, and 
anything which allayed hunger and supplied 
sustenance satisfied him. This was so well known 
to his servants that they made little provision 
for him when he was alone. 

So engrossed had he been that day that, after 
Peachy 's morning visit, he went straight back to 
work and forgot all about dinner until his guest 
reappeared. The President summoned his butler 
to inquire about dinner. That faithful servitor, 
who had accompanied him from his home, prompt- 
ly appeared, bowing deferentially. "Well, Csesar," 
said the President, " we are ready for dinner now. 
You may serve it as soon as you are ready. Mr. 
Peach}'- is to dine with us. I hope you have 
something nice . ' ' 

The butler stood aghast. After much hesita- 
tion he said: " I is very sorry to tell you, Mr. 
President, but dar ain't nuthin' in Gawd's worl' 
to eat fur dinner, but dat ole ham bone you bin 
peckin' on fur a week, an' some turnip salad I 



26 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

picked up in market a thinkin' to tempt you 
wid it to-day. You never tole me nuthin' about 
company comin', an' I has so often fixed up nice 
vittles fur you an' seen you leave 'em ontouched 
on de table, or not come to eat 'em at all, dat 
I has kinder give up try in', and now you has 
caught me nappin' sure 'nuff." 

For a moment the President appeared sadly 
mortified and embarrassed. But Peachy knew 
him so well, and the situation was so characteristic, 
that he enjoyed his discomfiture; and the President 
himself, who had a keen sense of the ludicrous, 
joined in the laughter at his own expense, and led 
him to the dining room to make the best of their 
poverty-stricken repast. "Thank Heaven it was 
you," said Tyler, as he saw the scant fare. "It 
might have been somebody else, and then it would 
have been worse." 

During the meal of ham and turnip greens a 
happy thought occurred to the President. " I'll 
tell you what I'll do. Peachy, to atone for this 
wretched entertainment," said he. "We will 
send for the keys of the White House cellars, and 
you shall go there yourself and take your choice." 
It was no sooner said than done. Peachy knew 
good wine and loved it dearly. Accompanied by 
the butler the two were soon rummaging the dust- 
covered bottles in the Presidential cellars, and, 
according to Mr. Peachy 's account, he never 
had such a frolic in his life. Smacking his lips, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 27 

with the memory of that afternoon's entertain- 
ment fresh in his mind, he declared that it was 
the only time in his life when he had more good 
liquor than he could drink and not as many people 
as he wanted to divide with him. Mr. Tyler was 
very abstemious, cared no more for wine than 
for water, and only took enough to keep him in 
countenance. 

I am not sure, but I have the impression that on 
the steamboat, on the occasion described in the 
opening of this chapter, I heard the ex-President 
and my father making merry over the way in 
which the former had turned the tables upon 
some people in Charles City County, At any rate 
I heard them discuss the matter on several oc- 
casions. 

After his retirement from the Presidency Mr. 
Tyler resided at a place called " Sherwood Forest " 
in Charles City County. It was a county in 
which the roads were notoriously bad. One 
day the ex-President received an appointment as 
"Overseer of the Roads." It was said that it 
was made to humiliate him, and to express the 
opinion of the Whig source from which it came, 
that it was better fitted to his talents and capacities 
than the position from which he had retired. 

Be this as it may, Mr. Tyler did not take offence. 
On the contrary, he accepted the place, and 
instead of neglecting his duties, or performing 
them in a perfunctory way as his predecessor 



28 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

had done, he went sturdily to work, invoked all 
the powers of compulsion which the road laws gave 
him, and before he was done with the work made 
whoever was responsible for his appointment 
heartily sick of the opportunity given him. He 
did his work so well that the roads in his district, 
from having been the worst became the very 
best in the county, and were the models upon 
which others were thereafter constructed. 

In the remaining years of his life, spent in 
Charles City, the ex-President by his blameless 
life so endeared himself to all the people as 
neighbour, friend and citizen that he had no 
enemies when he died. But traces of the bitter 
controversy between Mr. Tyler and the Whig 
party lingered many years. 

When my father returned from Brazil, in the 
s-ummer of 1847, Mr. Tyler had been in retirement 
for over two years and my grandfather had 
declined further re-election to Congress. During 
all my father's residence abroad Mr. Sergeant 
drew his salary for him, honoured his drafts, and 
generally managed his financial matters. On 
their return my father and mother, with their 
three children, two of whom had been bom while 
they were in Brazil, naturally visited Mr. Sergeant 
at his home in Philadelphia. The old house still 
stands in South Fourth Street. In those days 
it was a grand structure. Mr. Sergeant built it 
from the current income from his practice. It 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 29 

has a large frontage and consists of a four-storied 
house, with offices adjoining, facing on the street. 
The offices communicate with the house by a 
single door, and both buildings open upon a large 
yard, with stables and carriage houses in the 
rear. Here he lived luxuriously and practiced 
law for many years, but the offices were an un- 
known territory to his family and grandchildren 
except upon special occasions. Mr. Sergeant 
was an early riser, and long before breakfast time 
was in his office reading the morning papers or 
engaged in work. When the family assembled 
in the large breakfast room he would appear 
through the doorway leading to it from the 
offices, and the entire family greeted him with the 
utmost deference and love, amounting almost 
to fear. 

One morning at breakfast he informed my 
father that after the meal was over he would 
be glad to see him in the office upon a matter of 
business. Upon arriving there the complete ac- 
counts covering the years of my father's absence 
in Brazil were laid before him. They were drawn 
up in perfect form, bound with the red tape then 
in vogue, accompanied by vouchers for the mi- 
nutest detail and a check for the balance. An 
obsequious old law clerk was at hand to explain 
every item. While Mr. Wise examined them, 
Mr. Sergeant stood with his back to the fire 
placidly awaiting the result. Seeing that the 



so RECOLLECTIONS OF 

accounts were perfect, my father thanked him 
cordially for all his attention to his affairs and, 
the business being finished, ventured upon other 
conversation by suggesting, "Well, Mr. Sergeant, 
what of politics? You do not seem to be as 
much interested in them as formerly." "No, 
sir," said Mr. Sergeant, dryly, "I have retired 
from politics altogether. When you demonstrated 
before the world that I could not govern my own 
family, I thought it time to stop trying to govern 
the country." 

Until then my father had never known how 
deeply he had wounded Mr. Sergeant when he 
raised the point of order on him on the floor of 
the House. He did all he could to atone for it, 
for he greatly admired and respected Mr. Sergeant, 
but the latter never forgot it or altogether forgave 
it. This is why I say the bitterness of the Tyler 
conflicts lasted long after they were over. 

Away back in this chapter I began to describe 
the appearance of Mr. Tyler when I first saw him 
some years after all the happenings into a descrip- 
tion of which my rambling pen has led me. 

That day when he came upon the steamer he 
was the merriest and kindliest and happiest of old 
gentlemen. "Wise, Wise," said he, as he caught 
sight of my father's sunburned face and the 
various evidences that he had been out upon a 
fishing frolic, "will you never cease to be a 
boy?" And then he called me to him and took 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 31 

me on his knee and asked me many questions 
about what we saw and what we did, with as 
much interest as if he had been a boy himself. 
Then he and my father fell to talking of old times. 
One thing Mr. Tyler said impressed me deeply. 
They were talking together of old times and 
scenes in Washington, Of Clay and Webster and 
Calhoun and Benton. At last, gazing long and 
tenderly out of the steamboat windows and 
across the tawny waters of the James, he said: 

"Yes, yes, the lions of the '40's are fast falling 
asleep. Few of them are left. Wise, and I am 
trying to fit myself to meet my summons when 
it comes. You are still young. But I am fast 
approaching man's allotted span of three score 
and ten." Then they changed the theme and 
grew merry again, and Mr. Tyler was almost 
boyish in his urgency that my father should leave 
the boat with him at his wharf and spend a few 
days of recreation in the company of himself and 
wife at Sherwood Forest. 

I remember very vividly seeing Mr. and Mrs. 
Tyler after that in Richmond on numerous 
occasions when they were my father's guests, 
between 1856 and i860. 

Mr. Tyler was ever a most gentle, lovable and 
loyal old friend. In all discussions about the 
exciting issues of the day in politics he refused to 
admit or to consider that such a thing as the 
dissolution of the Union was possible. There 



32 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 

is infinite pathos in his prayer made in an address 
which he deUvered in Baltimore shortly before 
the outbreak of war, that he might live and die 
in the faith that the Union would be preserved. 
To the last he struggled against its disruption. I 
can now almost see the old man and hear his 
trembling voice pleading against the madness 
of the hour. As late as February of 1861 he 
presided over the Peace Convention at Washing- 
ton, which was largely the offspring of his en- 
deavours and he never cast his lot with his State 
until all hope of union seemed dead. He did 
what every other Virginian did who had been 
reared to love his old State better than the younger 
Union, which she had helped to form, and history 
will justify them. But the conflict broke his 
heart and he died within a year. He was merci- 
fully spared the sight of the degradation which 
awaited Virginia. 

I am glad that I knew Mr. Tyler. He may not 
have been as great a man as some of his prede- 
cessors or successors, but he was as good a man 
as ever lived. He was a consummate politician; 
a man of unbending resolution; he had a tender 
loving heart; he was a loyal friend^ a useful 
patriotic citizen; and a neighbour whose unfailing 
sympathy and soft answer could turn away 
the wrath of the most malignant of his foes. 



FRANKLIN PIERCE 



II.— FRANKLIN PIERCE. 

My father was perhaps as instrumental as 
any other one man in securing the nomination 
of Mr. Pierce. 

It is odd that a friend in Boston should have 
sent me, since I began these sketches, and without 
any solicitation on my part or even knowledge 
that he possessed them, copies of the following 
letters which tell the story better than I can. 
Colonel George, to whom the second letter is 
addressed, was the law partner of General Pierce. 
The student of those times may judge of the 
influence they had on Mr. Pierce by seeing the 
actual constitution of his cabinet. " Only " was 
my father's home — named after Richard Only, a 
former owner. 

" Only," near Onancock, Accomac County, Va., 

"June 22nd, 1852. 
''My Dear Sir: Yours of the 14th inst. foimd 
me at our Court House yesterday, fagged out 
almost with the trial of a laborious will case. 
It refreshed me as would the laving from a cool 
spring, and the best recompense I can return to 
the good heart which dictated that letter is the 
acknowledgment of that feeling. The man who 
has any heart cannot 'court the court' of public 

35 



36 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

preferment and enjoy even its highest honours. 
There is the bitterness of ashes in them. I can 
well then trust yovi when you profess to feel pain 
and anxiety as well as surprise at your nomina- 
tion. It gave to me for one and to the large 
majority of the Virginia delegation great pleasure 
to tender it to you. We were first for Mr. Bu- 
chanan and complimented him with 2)3 ballots 
continuously. Penna., Virginia, N. Carolina, Geor- 
gia, Alabama and Missi. had voted steadily 
together. Portions of the Virginia and No. Caro- 
ina delegations became restive against persisting 
longer for one man. Penna. invited Virginia to 
a conference. Virginia • extended the invitation 
to N. Carolina, Georgia, Ala. and Missi. On 
Friday night the committee from these six states 
met in conference. We were still for Buchanan. 
Mason, Harris, Martin and Floyd (the latter, 
however, left before we came to conclusions, he 
being for Douglas) and myself as chairman of the 
Virginia Committee happened to be members of 
the conference and all (except Floyd) to concur. 
We found no difference of opinion from us among 
the members of the committee of the other five 
states. We were confident we could nominate 
Mr. Buchanan if these six states would persist 
in voting for him, but were obliged to admit to 
ourselves that Virginia and No. Carolina would 
decide to take another name or other ^ names up 
before another rally could be made on that of 
Mr. Buchanan. We saw that the names of 
other gentlemen, not prominent then for the 
nomination, withheld votes from Mr. Buchanan, 
and to get the nomination for him or to nominate 
one of those gentlemen we would have to give 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 37 

each of them in turn a chance for the nomination. 
For whom could we go in good faith, with the 
chance of nominating him over our preference? 
We settled unanimously upon Marcy, Pierce and 
Butler. Each of them in turn should have a fair 
chance given him for the prize; if either should 
be nominated he was our choice, and if neither 
could be we were to re-rally on Mr. Buchanan and 
succeed by the aid of the friends of these three 
gentlemen named. 

" Virginia was to put each in turn in nomination. 
Penna., Georgia and Ala. were to be the reserve 
corps for Mr. Buchanan unless their votes were 
required to make and could make a nomination 
of either Marcy, Pierce or Butler. The other 
two states, N. C. and Missi., were to vote with 
Virginia after the first and second ballots. And 
we concurred in reporting to our delegations 
simply that we had agreed to withdraw from 
Mr. Buchanan for the present and to rally on him 
again only when we saw that we could nominate 
him. This was our plan, and the question was 
which of the three should Virginia first name. 
The Virginia delegation decided first to pay a 
complimentary vote only to Dickinson, and Gen'l 
Butler's friends, supposing that your name and 
Marcy's would both fail, preferred that his name 
should be brought forward by Virginia last of the 
three. Marcy was rather obnoxious to Dickinson's 
admirers in our delegation. Harris of Page read 
your letter to Major Lally to our delegation, I 
endorsed his recommendation and you carried 
twelve out of fifteen districts, obtaining the 
whole vote of the State and the unanimous vote 
of my district. Thus your name was carried 



38 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

before the Convention by Virginia on the 35th 
ballot. For seven or nine ballots you stood at 
29 only. At this time I thought your name had 
failed and good faith required a trial of Marcy's 
or Butler's name. But the Penna. delegation 
preferred you to Marcy and requested me to hold 
on to you for a few ballots more. This I consented 
to and assisted in bringing up a part of the reserve 
of Mr. Buchanan, Ga. and Ala. This gave the 
impetus. The moment came for Penna. to decide 
the struggle and I gave her the sign, as I was to do, 
when Virginia called on her for her vote for the 
man of the Granite Democracy. She came faith- 
fully up into line and there was then a rush not to 
be hindmost. Thus you received the nomination. 
The Wednesday before, early in the morning, 
your friend French (quondam Clerk H. Reps) 
and my friend Gushing called on me to present 
your name for my consideration. It was singular 
that I had supported the lamented Polk when I 
had not spoken to him for many years, in 1844. 
Now I might be called on to support you who 
had not exchanged a smile nor a friendly greeting 
with me from 1839, owing to an event no less 
deplored by me than by yourself, not on account 
of consequences to me but to others. I had my 
own self approval, that was enough. You knew 
not my justification, my part was wholly distorted 
to your vision. You were a friend to the un- 
fortunate enemy of my friend. I could well 
imagine why you could not take my hand until 
'time should clear up the cloud that then hung 
heavy over the heaven of our hearts.' I had 
never felt unkindness to you, had not cherished 
it if felt, and had it been felt and cherished it 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 39 

should not have been allowed to interpose in the 
discharge of my public duty. I so said to French. 
He and Gushing (who is the most sensible New 
England man I know) Atherton of your own 
State, Clifford of Maine, Thompson of Missi., 
Harris of Virginia and myself were, perhaps, the 
most efficient authors of your nomination. I 
take no other credit, however, than that of 
acting upon principle, without guile or selfishness, 
and forgetting every evil passion of the past, 
I shall support your nomination, Sir, con amore. 
Your letter convinces me that you have an 
understanding of the heart as well as of the 
head which has spoken kindly to my heart and it 
responds warmly. That is enough. If you are 
elected all that I shall ever ask of you will be 
for our Country not for myself. 

"Yours truly, Henry A. Wise. 
"Hon. F. Pierce, Concord, N. H. 

"Only, near Onancock, Va., Dec. nth, 1852. 

" Dear Sir: I have been off to Richmond and 
Phila. and, on my return, found yours of the 
5th on my table. Your letter gives me much 
uneasiness. I was mainly instrumental in having 
Mr. Pierce nominated and I had great confidence 
in his administrative qualities, but I tell you 
flatly that if he makes such a batch of appoint- 
ments as you conjecture, he won't have the confi- 
dence of Virginia long. I myself seek nothing and 
want nothing. He may leave me out of the 
Cabinet and welcome and not give me leave 
even to decline an appointment. That shall 
not disturb my support of his efforts to serve the 
country in the least. But if he mingle one of 



40 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

every faction around his council board what 
unity will there be? — — of New York would not 
be stomached here. Marcy would be, but he 
is obnoxious to Penna. and to the Dickinson fac- 
tion at home. What then? He oughtn't to 
touch New York. Win her he will by the mass 
of subordinate patronage. Let him appoint Gush- 
ing to the State. There is not another man who 
could serve him as well or please us better. Let 
him put Hunter into the Treasury. I repeat, I 
want nothing, but if he goes there it must be on 
terms of abandoning that Douglas faction with 
whom I will not affiliate or compromise. Don't 

let him touch , if he does he will offend 

every State-rights' man in the South. In the 
West the last men to be touched are any of the 
pure Cass or Douglas stock. Bright, or some one 
of his men, who backed my efforts all the while 
for Pierce, from Indiana will alone do in that 
quarter. I would recommend an organization thus : 

"Cushing, State, New England democracy; 
Hunter, Treasury, Va. democracy; Bright, P. O. 
North W. Dem. (not of Douglas clique) ; Jeff 
Davis, War, State Rights; Jno. Cadwalader, 
Atty. Gen., Penna. dem. (or some one named 
by Buchanan whose friends nominated Pierce); 

Abram Renchor, navy, S. E. dem. Interior, 

an anti-Ben ton man from Missouri. 

"His elements are — New Eng. democracy; mid- 
dle influence of Buchanan in Penn., Va., N. C, 
Ga., Ala. and Miss. ; the State-rights of the extreme 
South and the wing of Cassites, the Indiana men 
who backed us in Convention. 

"This combination will make him strong and 
a unit. If a Douglas man goes into that cabinet 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 41 

it won't last 12 months. As for me I can paddle 
my own canoe. I ask no odds, and, if not satisfied, 
will give no quarter. I will not tolerate that 
Douglas faction. General Pierce ought to be 
informed that, before he himself could be nomi- 
nated, his friends, those who adhered to Buchanan 
—had, in conference, to exclude three men from 
all contingency of nomination, and those three 
men were — Cass, Douglas and Sam. Houston. 
The men who nominated General Pierce will 
be sadly chagrined if now either of these men's 
factions is preferred for the Cabinet. The most 
bitter foes we had were the Douglasites. I had 
rather dig sweet potatoes here at home than be 
considered an expectant. My name has already 
been allowed to be battered about with that of 

and and such cattle until I feel it 

is soot}^ and greasy. 

"Yrs. Truly, Henry A. Wise. 
"P. R. George, Esq." 

The Presidential election of 1852 is the first 
that I remember. In another book I have 
described my recollection of the first announce- 
ment of the election of General Pierce. I have 
always been partial to men with military records, 
and was much impressed in the campaign of 
1852 by the glorious record of the Whig candidate, 
General Scott. He was a magnificent looking 
man and his fellow-countrymen had him displayed 
to them in full uniform — on foot, on horseback, in 
battle, in bivouac and in salon. 

In our home hung a picture of my father 



42 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

printed in the campaign of 1840, under which 
was inscribed the sentiment, "The Union of the 
Whigs for the sake of the Union"; and at the age 
of six I found it difficult to comprehend why it 
was that we were called upon to hurrah for a 
New Hampshire man and a Democrat against 
General Scott, a Virginian and a Whig and a 
great soldier in the War of 1 8 1 2 and in the Mexican 
War. Still, without thoroughly understanding 
the matter, we boys soon learned to laugh at the 
pretentious "old fuss and feathers," as General 
Scott was called, and to ridicule his lugging of 
his " hasty plate of soup " into a Presidential cam- 
paign, and soon learned to cheer for Pierce and 
King as lustily as anybody. 

One bright November afternoon my father 
took my brother and myself in his yawl named 
the Constitution to the little village of Onancock, 
where we received our mail. It was a mile 
distant, and we were soon rL>\ved thither by two 
stalwart slaves. There we found a large crowd 
assembled at the store of Captain Stephen Hopkins, 
which was Democratic headquarters, and soon 
after our arrival there was great cheering over 
the news of the election of Pierce and King, which 
came by the mail coach. In those days our 
mail reached us by a stage route, which left the 
railroad at Wilmington, Delaware, and ran thence 
down through Delaware and the eastern shore of 
Maryland and the eastern shore of Virginia, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 43 

My father was of course called upon for a 
speech, and aroused great enthusiasm among 
his hearers by assuring them that he knew Frank- 
lin Pierce well ; that he was a man of high charac- 
ter and great abilities ; that he was sound on the 
slavery question, and that his election would put 
at rest all the issues which then threatened a dis- 
ruption of the Union. 

It was the first time I had ever heard a suggestion 
that a dissolution of the Union was possible. It 
disturbed me greatly, and on the way home I 
asked my father a great many troublesome 
questions about the political issues of the day. 
To me the Union was the greatest thing in the 
world. The idea that any conditions might arise 
under which we would not be part of it or in it 
was to me monstrous, for I was a citizen of the 
United States, not one of any particular State, 
having been bom under the Star Spangled Banner 
in the empire of Brazil. I thought the United 
States Navy belonged to my father, because for 
many years he had been chairman of the Naval 
Committee in the House of Representatives. 
When our family sailed to Rio it went in the 
world-known frigate Constitution, and when it 
returned, bringing me with it, we came upon the 
Columbia. The United States flag had floated 
over me every day for the first year of my life. 
The United States bands had played patriotic 
airs every morning to wake me, and every evening 



44 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

soothed me to sleep, as the sailors of the nation 
rocked me in their arms; so that the United 
States was something more than a mere abstraction 
to me. It was a very vivid reality, and if anybody 
was threatening to break it up and make a row 
about it I wanted to know all about it myself. 

My father's devotion to the Union was just as 
sincere and just as deep as my own, and that 
afternoon he was both eloquent and enthusiastic 
and spared no pains to reassure me and put my 
fears at rest. Having heard from certain things 
which he said in his speech that General Scott 
was not "sound," and that General Pierce was 
"sound," my brother and I needed no further 
assurance, and were fully satisfied that Pierce 
was the right man, and that night we built a 
bonfire to celebrate Pierce's election. 

A few months afterward my oldest brother, 
Jennings, bade us all a long farewell, having 
received at the hands of President Pierce an 
appointment as Secretary of Legation in the 
United States Consular service at Berlin. This 
also tended to satisfy us that General Pierce was 
very " sound." 

A young gentleman of my age was not apt to 
have deep impressions or to reflect profoundly 
concerning the administrative acts of President 
Pierce ; in fact the only thing that I do recall con- 
cerning him is that soon after his election his 
little son was killed by an accident, and this fact 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 45 

was impressed upon me by the circumstance that 
his letters to my father were in mourning. The 
first and in fact the only time that I ever saw Mr. 
Pierce must have been either in December of 
1854 or 1855 in Washington. My oldest sister, 
Mary, married Dr. Alexander Yelverton Peyton 
Gamett, a young naval surgeon, who resigned 
shortly after their marriage and established him- 
self in Washington, D. C, where they lived for 
many years. In the autumn of 1850 my mother 
died, and her three little children, my brother, 
sister and myself, were sent each year to visit 
our grandparents in Philadelphia. We generally 
passed through Washington going and coming 
and spent a few days at the home of my sister, 
where my father picked us up and took us back 
with him to our home in the country. 

One morning, while we were at breakfast at 
Doctor Garnett's, a note in mourning was handed 
to my father. It was from President Pierce, 
requesting him to come to the White House, and 
informing him that the bearer would show him 
in by a private way. Oddly enough that undated 
note has been preserved through all the vicissitudes 
of after years and is still in the possession of 
my eldest son, in his collection of the autographs 
of distinguished men. My father, who had to 
make the rounds of the Department that morning, 
gave me permission to accompany him in his 
carriage. I was soon bundled up in my wrap and, 



46 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

picking up the messenger, who was awaiting us 
in Doctor Gamett's office, we were quickly 
driven to the White House. I think we were 
taken to the rear entrance, and there I was left 
alone in the carriage for what seerned to me to be 
an intolerably long time. At last my father 
returned, accompanied by a tall, handsome gentle- 
man. It was President Pierce. 

In those primitive days the intercourse between 
public men was much more democratic than it is 
at present. I have a vague notion that the 
President had on this occasion sent for my father 
because he wished to secure the co-operation of 
the two Virginia Senators, Messrs. Hunter and 
Mason, in some public matter, and that, after 
discussing the subject, they had come to the 
conclusion that the best way to reach the Senators 
was to ride down to the Capitol together, find 
them in the Senate and confer with them in the 
President's room which was hard by. Be this 
as it may, it is certain that I had become an en- 
cumbrance and that they drove by to leave me at 
Doctor Gamett's before they proceeded to the 
Capitol. 

When the President entered the carriage he 
gave me a very gracious recognition, and I in turn 
watched him very intently. He was still in 
mourning and seemed sad; perhaps I reminded 
him of his own little boy. The things about him 
that impressed me most were his kind bright eyes, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 47 

smooth-shaven face, sharp-pointed nose and curly- 
hair. I do not even remember any remark 
which he addressed to me. He seemed pre- 
occupied and was in earnest conversation with 
my father during our whole ride. I had time to 
note his black kid gloves and black shirt buttons 
before the carriage reached Doctor Gamett's; and 
this constitutes my inventory and appraisement 
of Franklin Pierce. 

It has been frequently asserted of Mr. Pierce 
that he was not a man of great ability and that 
he was an accident. I remember meeting Judge 
Putnam of the United States Circuit Court some 
years ago when I was trying a case before him in 
Boston. We lunched together. He was from 
New Hampshire, and in his early days had known 
General Pierce very well. The case we were 
trying was a controversy between two electrical 
corporations involving their respective rights of 
user of electrical currents in the highway, which 
interfered with each other. The Judge was 
pleased to remark that it was a subject with which 
I seemed to be very familiar, and I replied that I 
ought to be familiar with the subject as I had 
argued the same question in twenty-seven States 
of the Union and in England. Judge Putnam 
was disposed to be facetious and replied, " Take 
care that somebody doesn't say of you what old 

Deacon said of Frank Pierce." I asked 

him to tell me the story, which he did, as follows: 



48 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

" Mr. Pierce was a popular man in New Hampshire 
but he was never regarded as a very able man. 
The news of his nomination to the Presidency was 
a great surprise to the community in which he 

lived. Old Deacon had known Mr. Pierce 

all his life. When he heard of his nomination for 
the Presidency he exclaimed, 'Wall, wall, dew 
tell! Frank Pierce for President! Neow Frank's 
a good fellow, I admit, and I wish him well; he 
made a good State's attorney, thar's no doubt 
about that, and he made a far Jedge, thar's 
no denying that, and nobody kaint complain of 
him as a Congressman, but when it comes to the 
hull Yewnited States I dew say that in my jedg- 
ment Frank Pierce is a-goin' to spread durned 
thin: " 

I laughed heartily at the anecdote, but told the 
Judge I didn't know whether it bore harder upon 
Mr. Pierce or upon myself. 

Notwithstanding this uncomplimentary estimate 
of his old neighbour, history will give President 
Pierce a very respectable place among our chief 
magistrates. He was called to office in a perilous 
and trying period. It was a time which demanded 
fearlessness and caution and repression, and he 
performed his hard task well and faithfully and 
patriotically. He was thoroughly acceptable to 
those whose votes elected him. It is true that he 
was often reproached for leaning too strongly 
to his Southern supporters, but why should he not 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 49 

have done so ? They nominated him and supported 
him in opposition to a Southern man. They were 
unquestionably the dominant influence in the 
national politics of that day. All that he was 
he owed to them. His loyalty to their views, so 
long as he and they kept within the bounds of 
constitutional propriety, was both natural and 
right. 

One of the most attractive accounts of the 
personal characteristics of President Pierce is to 
be found in a book recently published by Mrs. 
Clay, the widow of Senator Clay of Alabama. It 
is particularly attractive in its description of the 
social life at that time in the Federal Capital, and 
I cordially recommend it to everyone who is 
interested in the subject. 



JAMES BUCHANAN 



III.-JAMES BUCHANAN 

It requires a vigorous appeal to memory to 
cast back to the time when Pennsylvania was in 
the column of staunch Democratic States, yet 
such she was when I first remember her. 

My uncle, William Sergeant, was a Democratic 
member of the Lower House in the Pennsylvania 
Legislature from the City of Philadelphia when I 
was a small boy. I remember his leading me 
by the hand through the streets of Philadelphia, 
from one bulletin board to the other, when the 
returns were coming in which announced the 
election of William F. Packer, Democratic Gov- 
ernor of the State, and in the Presidential election 
of 1856 the Keystone State went with a whoop 
for Buchanan and Breckenridge, or "Buck and 
Breck," as they were called in the political lingo 
of the day. 

A long friendship had existed between Mr. 
Buchanan and my father, who was again a potent 
factor in the Democratic National Convention 
which nominated Mr. Buchanan. 

My grandfather Sergeant died in 1852 and my 
uncle, who was very much attached to my father, 
had fallen from the Whig faith and -become an 
ardent follower and supporter of Democracy. 

53 



54 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Many of the letters which passed between Mr. 
Buchanan and my father are still in my possession, 
and show how very grateful and appreciative the 
kind old gentleman was of my father's efforts 
in his behalf. In more than one of them he 
declared that he regarded his nomination as more 
due to the advocacy of my father than to any 
other one man in the United States. 

The Presidential campaign of 1856 was, if I 
mistake not, the first in which political cartoons 
figured extensively. The news-stands and win- 
dows of book stores were filled with them, and 
they were a delight to the small boy. It was a 
primitive, but amusing and no doubt effective, 
form of campaigning resorted to by all the parties. 
There were Buchanan and Breckenridge cartoons 
and Filmore and Donaldson cartoons and Fremont 
and Dayton cartoons. As a class they were 
very poor specimens of drawing and of wit. 
They were cheap lithographs representing all 
sorts of birds and animals with poor likenesses of 
the candidate for their heads. There was gener- 
ally in the background a picture of the White 
House or something else suggestive af the Presi- 
dential chair. Great streamers came out of 
the mouths of the caricatures, and on those 
streamers were recorded feeble efforts at wit 
which the various actors were supposed to perpe- 
trate. Mr. Buchanan was always represented as 
a buck. In the Democratic cartoons he was 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 55 

portrayed running for the White House in the 
background and distancing all competitors. 
" Breck " not infrequently appeared upon 
" Buck's " back riding him in a winning race. 
In the opposition cartoons " Buck " was frequently 
represented as having been shot by the opposition 
candidate. Sometimes he was strung up and in 
process of being skinned. The supposed abolition 
tendencies in early life of Mr. Breckenridge were 
made the subject of great ridicule and comment 
by his political opponents. I remember that one 
of the cartoons represented Uncle Sam playing 
the banjo and singing a parody upon "John 
Anderson, My Joe, John." It began: 

" John Breckenridge, my Joe John, 
When we were first aquaint, 
You were an Abolitionist, 
And now you say you ain't." 

Fremont was often exhibited riding upon a 
"woolly horse," which was declared to be the 
only thing he had discovered in his boasted 
Rocky Mountain explorations. In one of these 
seated behind him was his wife, the daughter of 
Senator Benton, with whom he eloped. 

Mr. Filmore was represented as an Abolitionist 
walking arm in arm with a negro woman; and so 
on and so on. 

In all these pictures everybody was represented 
as doing a wonderful amount of talking, which 



56 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

either consisted of bragging about what he was 
going to do, or what he had done, or in ridicuHng 
something which his opponents had done or 
proposed. 

At this time my father was Governor and we 
Hved in Richmond. Richmond was a Whig 
know-nothing town by an overwhelming majority. 
By far the most brilHant campaigners of the 
place were the advocates of Filmore and Donaldson 
and the American party. Mr. Fremont had no 
following in Virginia. 

These witty and aggressive speakers delighted 
in lampooning and ridiculing my father, and their 
boys and the sons of their followers were delighted 
whenever they had a chance to try conclusions 
with the little Democratic boys. The boys of 
Richmond have always been notoriously bad boys, 
and nothing gave the little Whig and Know- 
nothing boys more pleasure at that time than 
trying to lick the Democratic Governor's sons. 
Sometimes they did; and sometimes they didn't. 
But there was work enough to keep all of us busy. 

After Mr. Buchanan's election my father, at 
his request, paid him a visit at his home "Wheat- 
land " at Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Mr. Buchanan 
offered him a place in his cabinet, but he declined 
to accept it, preferring the position which he 
held. 

By this time I was old enough to comprehend 
something of such matters, and I remember how 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 57 

interested I was, sitting in my father's office and 
hearing him describe to his visitors the domestic 
Ufe of Mr. Buchanan at "Wheatland." It must 
have been strangely in contrast with his mode of 
living at the Court of St. James's while he was 
Minister to England. My father was a very 
vivid raconteur, and from his descriptions of 
social life at Lancaster in those days it must have 
been a most primitive democracy. The neigh- 
bouring population was Dutch. Everybody called 
everybody else by his first name. Mr. Buchanan 
was universally referred to and addressed by his 
neighbours and friends as Jaimie Buchanan. 
They drove up to his house in their wagons and 
carts or more pretentious vehicles, tied their 
animals to the trees or fences in the yard, walked 
right into his house in their humble farm clothes, 
many of them delivering him presents of apples, 
pumpkins, chestntits, cider or cheese, or whatever 
tokens of their loyalty and friendship they pos- 
sessed, and made themselves at home, stayed as 
long as they saw fit, talked to their host in the 
most familiar way, and when their curiosity or 
their friendly interest was satisfied took their 
departure and bade Jaimie farewell most affec- 
tionately. 

Mr. Buchanan understood them fully, prized 
their devotion sincerely, even if it was rough, and 
adapted himself studiously to their simplicity 
and neighbourly kindness. 



58 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

But that sort of social freedom gave him very 

Httle opportunity for the consultations of states- 
manship, as his house was overrun morning, noon 
and night with the free and easy citizens of the 
Conestoga Valley. But when it came to his 
residence in Washington nobody who ever occupied 
the White House presided over it with more 
dignity or in a style more courtly and befitting a 
President than did Mr. Buchanan. He was a 
bachelor. His favourite niece. Miss Harriet 
Lane, was a handsome, charming, accomplished 
woman. She had been the mistress of his home 
while he was in England, I think, and at any rate 
presided over the White House as mistress of cere- 
monies during his Presidential term, and was uni- 
versally popular. 

About the middle of Mr. Buchanan's term my 
brother Jennings returned to America after four 
or five years absence as Secretary of Legation, 
first at Berlin with Mr. Peter D. Vroom of New 
Jersey, and afterward in Paris with Mr. John Y. 
Mason of Virginia. I think he had known Miss 
Lane abroad. At any rate, after his return they 
became warm friends. The newspaper gossip 
of the day even went so far as to publish hints 
that there was an affair between them, but I have 
no idea there was any real foundation for the 
report. They were simply two delightful young 
persons whose tastes were congenial and whose 
long residence abroad and experience in public 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 59 

society made their companionship agreeable to 
each other. Nevertheless, my brother was always 
enthusiastic about Miss Lane and referred to 
her in terms of unbounded admiration and respect. 
Long after the war, and years after my brother's 
death, I remember hearing that Miss Lane, who 
had by that time become Mrs. Johnson, spoke of 
him in the most affectionate and admiring way. 
I can testify to the hospitality and courtliness 
of Mr. Buchanan, although the presence of Miss 
Lane was not deemed necessary upon the occasion 
of my visit. I think it was in the winter of 
1857 that I paid my first formal visit to the 
White House. I had been upon my usual annual 
visit to Philadelphia, and my uncle, William 
Sergeant, accompanied us back to Richmond. 
Although not strictly germane to the subject, it 
will interest the reader to hear about the method 
of travel at that time, which was not much like it 
is at present. In order to reach the depot in 
Philadelphia it was necessary that we should 
ride in a carriage a long distance from Fourth 
Street to the Pennsylvania Railroad Depot at 
Broad and Prime streets, for there were no 
street cars as at present. There we took the 
cars and went by rail to Perryville. At Perry- 
ville we left the train and went down what 
seemed to be an interminable and steep stairway 
to a ferryboat. We crossed the Susquehanna 
River on this ferryboat to Havre de Grace, and 



6o RECOLLECTIONS OF 

from that climbed up another steep and almost 
interminable stairway to a train which bore us to 
Baltimore. Upon our arrival at Calvert Street 
station in Baltimore our engine was detached, and 
the train was hauled through the streets of Balti- 
more by a long line of horses with bells on them 
to Camden Street station. There another engine 
awaited us which hauled us to the President 
Street station in Washington, whence we were 
taken in an omnibus half as long as a car to a 
hotel, where we spent the night. Early the next 
morning the same omnibus carted us a long 
distance to a point near the Navy Yard in Wash- 
ington, where we boarded a steamer for Acquia 
Creek. We reached that place about ten o'clock 
and there took a train on the Richmond, 
Fredericksburg & Potomac Railroad for Rich- 
mond, which latter place we reached about the 
same hour at which we left Philadelphia the day 
before. Sleeping cars were in those days unknown ; 
there was no through traffic and very few night 
trains. We stopped for a day of rest in Washing- 
ton, and my uncle informed us we were all to call 
upon the President the next morning. That was 
a great event. Upon our appearance at the 
White House Mr. Buchanan received us most 
cordially. He was an imposing looking old gentle- 
man, tall and of large frame, dressed in spotless 
black, with a high white stock. His coat was cut 
something like the dress suits of the present day 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 6i 

but with fuller skirts. His hair was white, close 
cut, and stood straight up from his head. His 
complexion was pink and healthy looking. He 
carried his head on one side as if he had a stiff 
neck, and the thing about him which was most 
surprising to me was that one of his eyes was 
dark hazel and the other light blue. I fear the 
dear old gentleman must have observed the 
intentness with which I scrutinised this last 
phenomenon, for at that time it was a new one to 
me. 

After greeting Mr. Sergeant most cordially -the 
President turned to us and our Irish nurse .'and 
said in the kindest way, " So these are the children 
of Governor Wise, are they? I am glad to see 
you, children. Your papa is a very dear friend 
of mine." 

"Second crop, Mr. President," said my uncle 
facetiously, for he was an irrepressible wit and 
wag. "Yes, I know," said Mr. Buchanan smiling; 
"they are the children of his second wife, who was 
your sister. I met his son by his first marriage 
several times when I was abroad. Well, now, 
children, what can I do to make you happy while 
I talk with your uncle. Let us see." Thereupon 
he rang a little bell beside him and summoned one 
of the attendants, and upon his appearance bade 
him take us to the greenhouse and show us the 
pretty things there and give us what flowers we 
wanted, and when we were sufficiently amused 



62 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

bring us back to luncheon in half an hour. He was 
arranging so that he might in the meanwhile inquire 
about his Pennsylvania " fences " from my uncle, 
who was one of his trusted friends in that State. 

In due time we reappeared and were seated as 
distinguished guests in the dining room at a fine 
luncheon. We had all the bread and butter and 
jam and hot-house grapes that our hearts could 
desire. "Old Buck," who, even if he had no 
children of his own, knew mighty well how to 
entertain the young hopefuls of his constituents, 
came in before we finished our repast, smiled at 
us and inquired if we were being taken care of, 
asked us many pleasant questions, and finally 
bade us good-bye with kindly messages for home. 
I think he gave each of us a photograph of himself, 
but mine went into the seething vortex of war 
losses when our home and all its contents fell into 
the hands of the Union troops in 1862. So that 
even if Miss Harriet Lane did look upon us as 
beneath her dignity, we left the White House 
ready to support " Old Buck " for a second term, 
if he wanted it. 

Upon reaching Richmond my uncle amused my 
father with his accounts of our raid upon the 
White House and of the dexterity of good old 
President Buchanan in dealing with a class of 
guests with whom he was not very familiar. 

Poor old President Buchanan. Times like those 
upon which he fell are not suited to a man of 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 63 

seventy. Whatever he may have been in his 
younger days, the great crisis which he was 
called upon to confront found him a weak, vacillat- 
ing, hysterical old man, with whom everybody, 
friend and foe alike, at last lost patience. 

I remember an anecdote resorted to by my 
father to emphasize Mr. Buchanan's indecision, 
which made a deep impression upon me when I 
heard it. Something came up in the winter of 
1 860-1, concerning which it was thought that, if 
the President acted promptly, his ruling would 
be decisive. Some person said, "Will not the 
President act? He has it in his power to settle 
it at once, if he will but take a decided stand. 
His duty is too plain for discussion. Cannot you, 
as his friend. Governor Wise, induce him to do 
what is right?" 

"Bah!" said my father contemptuously. "You 
do not know Mr. Buchanan or you would not 
expect him to take decided ground about any- 
thing. He reminds me of a discussion I heard 
between two of my darkies about the Christian 
religion. One of them planted himself upon a 
proposition which the other was unwilling to 
deny and yet equally unwilling to admit. The 
proposer, seeing his advantage, addressed his 
adversary -^rith the inquiry : ' Is what I say so, 
or not bO?' His antagonist hesitated, scratched 
his head, and at last exclaimed, 'Well, Joshua, if 
I must answer you, dis is what I have to say. I 



64 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 

say dat what you says may be sort of so, but at de 
same time it is sort of not so, and de more I 
thinks of what you say de more I beUeve it is a 
leetle more sort of not so dan it is sort of so.' 

"And that," added my father, "is the attitude 
of the poor old fellow upon every question which 
now comes up before him. He is simply paralysed 
by the immensity of the issues and the perils of 
the hour." 

Mr. Buchanan lived until 1868, and died at the 
age of seventy-seven, but during the three years 
after the war ended I am sure that no communica- 
tion passed between my father and his old friend. 



JEFFERSON DAVIS 



IV.— JEFFERSON DAVIS 

The reader must now accompany me for a little 
while to a region outside the United States, for 
shortly after the expiration of the term of Mr. 
Buchanan I took up my residence for four years 
in a foreign country, viz., The Confederate States 
of America. 

Mr. Lincoln never acquiesced in this view and 
insisted that he was my President, nor did I 
ever have a chance to discuss it with him person- 
ally. The logic of events had about convinced 
me that I could not make my contention good, 
however sound it might be in theory, when Mr. 
Lincoln fell beneath the hand of the assassin. 

I was fourteen years old when the great Civil 
War broke out. Regarding my age when it 
ended, I was much in the condition of a little 
darkey on a Virginia plantation. He opened 
the farm gate for a visitor to his master, and 
scrambled up behind on the vehicle to ride to 
the great house. The visitor, impressed by his 
bright face and general precocity, looked back 
at him and said, " You are a bright little chap, my 
boy. How old are you?" 

Grinning from ear to ear, the boy replied, " I 
dunno, sir, 'xactly how old I is. Mammy says I 

67 



68 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

ean't but fo-teen. But by de fun I is had I 
'spec I must be 'bout twenty-five!" 

Whether my experiences during the four years 
in which the war lasted be called fun or something 
else, they brought with them a grim realisation 
of life's seriousness, and I developed more rapidly 
during that time than in any like period of my 
existence. 

I was "possessed" by Mr. Jefferson Davis, but 
" obsessed " by Mr. Abraham Lincoln. The reader 
will please observe the appropriateness of this 
description. 

The word obsess is a comparatively new one. 
One cannot find it in the dictionaries of the 
Confederate period, but I like it because it ex- 
presses a condition. Funk & Wagnall define 
obsession as a "condition of being vexed by a 
spirit from the outside." See how it fits. 

If Mr. Lincoln had really been what my youthful 
fancy pictured him the temi would suit my 
case all the better, for the lexicographers declare 
that it applies "more particularly to evil spirits," 
and that surely was what I considered him then. 

Among the people with whom I was reared the 
Northern people were believed to be the ag- 
gressors and the Southern people thought they 
were acting purely on the defensive. I believed 
that as religiously as I ever believed anything. 

We regarded the election of Mr. Lincoln as 
simply registering the purpose of the people in the 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 69 

Northern and Western States to disregard every 
Constitutional guaranty to the Southern States 
and to overthrow the institution of slavery by 
fair means or by foul. The people among whom 
I was reared were not zealous advocates of slavery. 
On the contrary, they looked upon it as an in- 
herited evil, about which they were constantly 
debating methods by which it might be ulti- 
mately abolished. As for myself, I think my 
New England and Puritan blood must have been 
asserting itself, for, as far as a boy of my age 
may be said to have had any views upon a subject 
of that gravity, mine were such that even had the 
war not occurred I believe I would have grown 
up an Abolitionist. Moreover, unless I grossly 
misapprehended the sentiments of older people, 
I believe Virginia would of her own volition 
have abolished slavery in a very short time but 
for outside interference. 

But the argument of that time was that the 
North was unjustifiably and impertinently intrud- 
ing and interfering in a matter with which it had 
nothing to do, in utter disregard of Constitutional 
limitations, and that if it might do this it might 
do the same thing concerning other matters until 
the South was at its mercy. 

It was further argued that, as the Northern and 
Southern views of the interpretation of the 
Constitution had been from the first radically 
and irreconcilably in conflict, the South ought to 



^o RECOLLECTIONS OF 

withdraw from the Union, else it would be com- 
pletely dominated by the North. 

That was unquestionably the plea upon which 
the greater part of the Southern people were 
induced to give up a love for the Union and 
ultimately to favour secession. 

But slavery was at the bottom of the trouble, 
no matter who may delude himself to the contrary. 

Children are among the keenest of listeners and 
closest of observers. They are, too, as apt as 
anybody to see and hear the real underlying 
motives of great controversies, the good as well 
as the bad, even when older people seek to veil 
them beneath sophistries. 

The political leaders of the South must have 
been intensely inflamed and in deadly earnest 
against the North. I do not remember that in all 
the discussions I heard preceding the war I ever 
heard any Southern man concede to the Repub- 
lican party or its leaders any broad or patriotic 
purpose or any conciliatory feeling toward the 
South. Lincoln, Seward, Chase, Wade, Greeley — 
in fact, all the Republican leaders — were denounced 
as South-haters who at heart rejoiced even at the 
lunatic blood-thirstiness of John Brown, and as men 
who would, if they dared to do so, incite and encou- 
rage servile insurrection, murder and rapine to ac- 
complish the destruction of slavery, regardless of the 
terror or suffering which might be inflicted thereby 
upon their white brethren in the Southern States. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 71 

The Southern masses had unquestionably been 
wrought up to this behef when they voted in 
favour of their respective States seceding from 
the Union. So beUeving, they were fully justified 
in making the effort. 

It is easy to say that the South was in the 
wrong, and, admitting it, it does not wipe out the 
fact that the Northern people themselves were 
far from blameless in that they countenanced and 
even encouraged the doing and the saying of many 
things in public and in private which gave colour 
to the popular apprehensions in the South. 

For this reason I have never felt called upon to 
defend my section for attempting to secede. 
The South may have been as arrogant and domi- 
neering as Northern writers represent her, but 
there was enough of arrogance and bad blood in 
the North to make Southern men desire to dissolve 
political partnership with her. The right to 
secede was always a debatable one, with the pre- 
ponderance of logic favouring the abstract right, 
and sentiment, rhetoric, eloquence and the hope 
of National greatness all opposed. 

It is all easy enough now to see that the Nation 
is greater and more prosperous than either could 
possibly have been if two nations had been 
formed from it. But much of its greatness is the 
result of the great war, and it would not have 
achieved it if the war had not happened. It is 
easy, too, to moralise now about the way in which 



72 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

the conflict might have been avoided but for the 
ambitious designs of this man or that, or this 
set of men or that. Undoubtedly it might have 
been avoided if men had been angels. But the 
quarreling over the things that led to the war 
had gone on so long and had been so acrimonious 
that a good blood-letting was the only way to put 
an end to it. When at last the fight did come, 
and the North proceeded to coerce the South, the 
attitude of the Northern man who sided with the 
South was not a whit more peculiar or unnatural 
than that of the Southerner who sided with the 
North. It required a great deal more of explana- 
tion to justify the action of such than it did to 
justify those who maintained their natural affilia- 
tions. 

Unquestionably there were good men from 
beth sections who adhered to the cause of the 
opposite section. But there were not many of 
that kind on either side. As a class those who 
took sides against their own section were a sorry 
lot, both North and South, and both sides know 
it, whether they confess the fact or not. 

For myself I am glad I sided with the South. 
I do not mean to imply by this that, after all, 
things did not turn out for the best. But the 
Southern side was mine, naturally, and I would 
rather have been whipped fighting for and with 
my friends than have aided in such a bitter and 
blood-thirsty struggle against them. In after 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 73 

years I became identified with a political party 
which is opposed by the great mass of my old 
Confederate comrades. But that is quite a differ- 
ent matter. It is not like fighting them and 
shedding their blood. 

It only means that concerning political policies 
and current events I believe that I have more 
common sense than they have. They do not 
think so now, but the time will come when they 
will find out that I was in the right and they were 
in the wrong. But quarrel as we may about the 
things of the present, they cannot deny my 
Confederate brotherhood with them, nor can 
they rob me, if in their wrath they would attempt 
it, of the pride I have in the fact that I was a 
Confederate soldier. Whatever else we may have 
lost in that struggle, we gave the world Robert E. 
Lee, and he led an army with a record of valour 
that will preserve its memory as long as the world 
counts courage and self-sacrifice among the noblest 
traits of men. 

So let not my reader expect to hear from me any 
explanations or regrets about my having been 
a so-called Rebel. That is just what I was, and 
while I do not want to flaunt the fact offensively 
in the face of anybody who felt differently, I 
must admit that to this day I am proud of my 
record as a follower of Lee. 

All that was a long time ago, and those who 
felt most bitterly about it are now reconciled, 



74 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

but there is one exception to the general amnesty 
of the Northern mind which I cannot for the 
life of me understand, and that is why, when 
the Northern people seem to have forgiven all 
other Confederates, they still in some indefinable 
way and for some inexplicable reason cherish a 
grudge against Mr. Davis, as if he were called 
upon to make vicarious atonement for the sins 
of all the rest of us. What did he do that keeps 
him without the pale of Northern charity? He 
certainly was not so pre-eminently great that 
he led his people against their will. He was not 
so popular that he might mislead them. He was 
neither so good that he did the North unusual 
damage, nor so bad that he excited their special 
vengeance. Their attitude toward him only ex- 
cites sympathy among his old comrades, with 
whom he was never a favourite, and makes a soft 
place for him in the heart of every ex-Confederate. 
Mr. Davis was never a particular friend to me 
or mine. I never believed he was a very great 
man, or even the best President the Confederate 
States might have had. But he w^as our President. 
Whatever shortcomings he may have had, he was 
a brave, conscientious and loyal son of the South. 
He did his best, to the utmost of his ability, for the 
Southern cause. He, without being a whit worse 
than the rest of us, was made to suffer for us as 
was no other man in the Confederacy. And 
through it all he never, to the day of his death. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 75 

failed to maintain the honour and the dignity of 
the trust confided to his keeping. 

Yet the North seems not to have forgiven him. 
For that very reason I cherish his memory with 
pecuHar tenderness. After forty years of renewed 
loyalty to our re-united country, in which I have 
battled for the acceptance in good faith by the 
Southern people of the results of the war; after 
seeing, with loyal pride, my sons bearing to 
victory the flag against which I fought, I feel that 
I have a right to stand up anywhere and demand 
for the memory of Jefferson Davis just as much 
kindness, just as much charity and just as much 
forgiveness as is accorded to the memories of 
Lee or Johnston or any of the great Confederate 
heroes. I believe that his courageous and constant 
soul is at rest in a heaven somewhere provided 
for brave and loyal spirits whose reward does not 
depend upon success, or even upon whether they 
were in fact right or wrong, but upon their having 
striven in this world for what they believed was 
right according to the power God gave them to see 
the right. And that is what I believe Mr. Davis 
did. 

The first time I ever saw him was in the summer 
of 1862, after the battle of Seven Pines and before 
the seven days' battles around Richmond. 

In 1 86 1 the Third Alabama Regiment was 
encamped near our home, "Rolleston," near Nor- 
folk. Taken altogether, it was the finest regiment 



76 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

I ever saw. When Norfolk was evacuated in the 
spring of 1862 all the Confederate troops there 
assembled, including this regiment under the 
command of General Huger, were transferred to 
the command of General Joseph E. Johnston on 
the peninsula between the York and the James. 

The brigade of which the Third Alabama 
formed a part was hotly engaged in the battle of 
Seven Pines, and the Third bore the brunt of the 
fighting. By one of those blundering assaults so 
common in the early stages of the war the Colonel, 
Tenant Lomax, and many other officers and men 
who were our personal friends were killed. 

Being in Richmond in June, 1862, and learning 
that the Third Alabama held a point on our line 
where it crossed the nine-mile road, I rode down 
there one afternoon to look after a number of old 
friends. The change in the appearance of the 
camp and men from what they were in their 
princely quarters in the entrenched camp at 
Norfolk was sad enough. 

McClellan's army was at that time east and 
north of Richmond, divided by the Chickahominy. 
That stream runs parallel to the James, about 
four miles north of the City of Richmond. The 
land lying between the two streams is a high 
plateau, which terminates in a sharp decline into 
the valley of the Chickahominy. Beyond the 
Chickahominy the land rises again into a series of 
hills. On the crest of one of those hills a mile 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 77 

beyond the Chickahominy stands the Httle village 
of Mechanics ville, with a straight broad turnpike 
running southward from it across the stream to 
Richmond, five miles distant. From the hills 
about Mechanicsville, and even from the village 
itself, the spires of Richmond are plainly visible. 
The left wing of McClellan's army, under Generals 
Keyes and Heintzelman, was fortified east of 
Richmond and south of the Chickahominy, His 
right wing, under Fitz John Porter, crossed the 
Chickahominy, pressed forward beyond the left 
wing and occupied Mechanicsville, facing south- 
ward. The hills on the Richmond side of the 
stream were strongly fortified by the Confederates, 
while those on the Mechanicsville side swarmed 
with Federal soldiery. In the valley between the 
two armies, along the borders of the sluggish 
stream, was a heavily wooded swamp, half a mile 
wide, which rendered it impossible for either army 
to attack the other save by certain bridges and 
causeways across the stream located at long dis- 
tances from each other. But the opposing forces 
were plainly visible to each other over the tree- 
tops in the swamp, and the distance between the 
crests of the hills does not exceed a mile or a mile 
and a half. The combatants frequently engaged 
in artillery duels from these hill crests. Attracted 
by the sounds of the firing as I was returning 
from my visit to the Alabama regiment, I rode with 
a party of friends to Strawberry Hill, the home 



78 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

of a Mr. Edmunds, and witnessed one of these 
beautiful contests. Our battery was commanded 
by the late Lindsay Walker, afterward a Brigadier- 
General of Artillery. A Federal battery of six 
guns was in position upon a hill to the west of the 
woods at Mechanicsville. A military balloon swung 
high above those woods, and we could see the 
signal men wig-wagging the effects of the Federal 
shots. The men serving the Union guns looked 
like little black ants moving about upon the hill- 
side. We could see their flags planted near the 
battery. While no infantry supports were in 
sight, the numbers of men watching at different 
points were sufficient to satisfy anyone that there 
were camps a-plenty behind the hills. The 
Federal guns seemed to be of much longer range 
than ours, but our marksmanship was far the best. 
Their rifled shells came high over our battery 
with a vicious scream, and went half a mile or 
more beyond, while our shots seldom carried over 
the hilltops. Several of our shells seemed to 
burst right in the Federal battery, but, so far 
as we could see, hurt nobody. 

A large party of Federals, apparently a general 
officer and his staff, appeared at a point x)f observa- 
tion. Walker turned one of his guns upon them, 
and the shot was so well directed that our men 
stood on the breast works and cheered as the 
party galloped away. Another discharge of Fed- 
eral shells made our men scramble down to cover 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 79 

behind the embankment. These noisy demon- 
strations were harmless as a rule, but they were 
very inspiring to youngsters who had never seen 
anything of war. When we had seen enough and 
were about to start for home we had another 
treat in store for us. The evening was fine and 
the noise extraordinary, which had combined to 
bring President Davis out to the lines. We met 
him and his staff riding on horseback as we 
were returning to the city. We drew up and 
saluted as they passed. I had a good look at Mr. 
Davis. He was a striking looking man. He 
was well mounted and sat his horse well. He 
was thin and wiry looking. He had been a 
gallant officer in the Mexican War, and I believe 
he delighted in military service and prided himself 
upon his martial appearance. Who were with 
him I do not know. I did not then know and in 
fact, in many interviews with him afterward, never 
observed that Mr. Davis had lost the sight of one 
of his eyes. I have a vague remembrance that 
his handsome always courteous young secretary, 
Burton Harrison, was of the party. Those were 
the brave and hopeful days of the Confederacy, 
and the last we heard of him that day was the 
cheering in some of the camps which he was 
visiting. 

The last time I ever saw the late Dr. Hunter 
McGuire, Stonewall Jackson's Medical Director 
and warm personal friend, he told me an incident 



8o RECOLLECTIONS OF 

in the lives of Jackson and Davis which occurred 
about this time. It may be that Dr. McGuire 
has told it in some of his own writings. If so, he 
has doubtless told it better than I shall, for he 
was a charming raconteur. Our friendship ex- 
tended over nearly forty years. This story illus- 
trates the characteristics of both Mr. Davis and 
General Jackson so thoroughly that I shall give 
it, even if it has been told elsewhere, regretting 
that I cannot fix the precise spot at which the 
first part of the story was located. 

Doctor McGuire said that after the hardest 
fighting at the first battle of Manassas, where 
Stonewall Jackson was wounded in the hand, he 
was bandaging Jackson's hand. It was on the 
porch of a little store at the crossing of a stream. 
From my knowledge of the battlefield I think it 
must have been where the Sudley road crosses 
Young's branch near the Warrenton pike. At 
any rate the tide of battle had then turned in 
favour of the Confederates, and Jackson had taken 
time to have his wound dressed. About the 
place were a large number of men awaiting their 
turn, most of them wounded, some of them 
stragglers no doubt. But Jackson knew the 
situation thoroughly and was not feeling alarmed 
about their presence. Just then a horseman in 
civilian's dress, greatly excited, dashed up and, 
reining his horse in the stream, rose in his stirrups 
and began an impassioned appeal to the men, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 8i 

begging them not to give up the fight; assuring 
them that they were not whipped; that the 
enemy was in retreat; and that if they would not 
act hke cowards and cravens victory was assured. 
He then proclaimed himself to be President 
Davis. It seems that Mr. Davis, having arrived 
upon the field and hearing of the reverses 
of the morning but not of our subsequent successes, 
had dashed forward and, seeing this throng of 
apparent stragglers, was seeking to rally them 
and induce them to return to battle. Doctor 
McGuire said that neither he nor General Jackson 
had ever seen Mr. Davis before, and that he had 
no idea who he was until he announced himself. 
But he made that announcement too late 
to influence General Jackson's action. Upon 
hearing Mr. Davis's outburst Jackson literally 
flung aside the bandages he was placing on his 
hand and, with more excitement than he ever 
saw him show before or afterward, advanced 
quickly toward Davis saying, "What is all this 
fuss about? These men are not cowards. These 
men are not deserters. These men are not 
stragglers. They are my men and are mostly 
wounded. We are not hard pressed. We have 
whipped the Yankees and the fighting is over. 
Who are you, sir?" 

"I am President Davis, sir. Who are you?" 
"I am General Jackson, sir," said Jackson, now 
realising the situation and saluting. Then he 



82 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

calmly returned to have his wound dressed, and 
Mr. Davis departed for some other part of the 
field. Jackson was evidently very indignant at 
the imputation cast upon his men, and Mr. Davis 
evidently did not like the language or the manner 
of his subordinate. McGuire said that in all 
their subsequent intercourse Jackson never alluded 
to this episode but once, but it was plain to him 
that the grim old Presbyterian fighter was not an 
admirer of Davis. 

Now for the sequel. McGuire said that one 
night, near Malvern Hill, during the seven days' 
battles, General Jackson asked him to accompany 
him to General Lee's headquarters. He had no 
idea what the occasion was to be, but always 
liked to gratify the General. Upon arriving at 
General Lee's headquarters they found him and 
General Longstreet. Lee, Longstreet and Jackson 
soon had out the maps and were conning them 
together most fraternally, discussing the best 
method of attack on the morrow. He said 
Jackson was devoted to Lee and had great con- 
fidence in Longstreet; that they were all deeply 
interested in the subject they were discussing and 
unreserved in their exchange of thoughts and 
suggestions. He, of course, took no part in the 
council, but felt gratification that the leaders of 
our army were so harmonious. Suddenly a com- 
motion was heard on the outside, and a moment 
later President Davis appeared unannounced. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 83 

He entered smiling and said, "General Lee, you 
see I have followed you up, I became so anxious 
that I could not remain in Richmond." General 
Lee greeted him cordially, shook his hand and 
bade him welcome. Then Mr. Davis shook hands 
with Longstreet, whom he knew well, and turned 
with a look of hesitation to General Jackson, 
whom he did not seem to recognise. " Why, Presi- 
dent," said General Lee, omitting the "Mister," a 
fact which McGuire commented upon, " Don't 
you know who that is? That's General Jackson. 
That's our Stonewall." The President evidently 
had not recognised General Jackson. Jackson 
had never been much in the East since Manassas. 
After Manassas he had returned to the valley and 
actively operated there until he was moved east 
by General Lee to co-operate in the attack on 
McClellan's flank about ten days before this 
meeting. Moreover he was not such an imposing 
figure that men thought when they looked at 
him "this must be a hero." On the contrary, 
he was anything but a fancy picture, in his old 
slouch hat and with his straggling beard, well- 
worn coat, rough cow-skin, muddy boots, and 
with his big awkward feet and hands. When he 
stood up he looked as if he was sprung in the 
knees. Hearing who he was, Mr. Davis's face lit 
with a smile of enthusiasm, imparted by the 
cordial reference of General Lee to Jackson's 
services, and apparently would have shaken his 



84 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

hand. But General Jackson drew himself up into the 
best military attitude he could assume, gave him a 
formal military salute, and stood there motionless, 
while the smile died out on the face of Mr. Davis. 

Evidently General Jackson remembered certain 
disagreeable correspondence which had at one 
time impeded him to tender his resignation, and 
we may be sure that Mr. Davis did not misunder- 
stand his frigidity. Jackson went into his shell 
completely after Davis's arrival, and took no part 
in the subsequent discussions. He soon withdrew, 
and McGuire, on their way back to their own 
quarters, remarked to him, " General, I am 
surprised that you and Mr. Davis have not met 
before." "Never," was the laconic reply. Then, 
after a pause, Jackson added, with the quiet 
chuckle in which he sometimes indulged, " Except 
that time when we both saw him at Manassas." 

Soon after this I went away to the great Con- 
federate Military School at Lexington, and never 
saw President Davis again until the latter part of 
May, 1864. Then he was my hero, and I was 
one of his heroes. The Corps of Cadets of the 
Virginia Military Institute was called upon in 
emergency to serve with Breckinridge in the 
Shenandoah Valley. Our army met the forces 
of Seigel May 15, 1864, at New Market in Shenan- 
doah, and we gave him such a thorough thrashing 
that Grant telegraphed to Washington " Seigel is 
whipped again." 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 85 

The Cadet Corps greatly distinguished itself. 
We lost eight killed and forty-six wounded out of 
two hundred and twenty-five in action, in a 
fight of about four hours' duration. 

I was seventeen years and four months old 
when I received my first wound, and was as 
proud as Napoleon at Austerlitz. It was a 
slight wound, and I rejoined the command in 
Staunton on its march up the valley. We were 
ordered to Richmond. On our way we passed 
immediately in rear of Lee's army, moving 
parallel to Grant's. When we stopped at Hanover 
Junction we could hear the firing along the line 
of the North Anna River, and our train was sur- 
rounded by Stonewall Jackson's old division, rest- 
ing at mid-day, on its march to confront Grant's 
flank movement from Spottsylvania to Cold Har- 
bour. At Richmond we were put in camp in what 
was then known as Camp Lee. It is now the Ex- 
position grounds. We were reviewed on the Cap- 
itol Square by President Davis, the Governor of 
Virginia, and others. Mr. Davis was very compli- 
mentary of the gallantry of the Corps, but greatly 
deplored the necessity of putting us into service. 
He used the simile that putting such youths into 
service was like "using up the seed com of the 
Confederacy," and it was widely commented on in 
the papers North and South. But the taste of 
war it gave us made many of us resign and accept 
commissions as " Drill Masters, with the pay and 



86 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

emolument of 2nd Lieutenant in the Provisional 
Army of the Confederate States." That is rather 
a high-sounding office for so small an employment, 
but at the time I was proud of it. I spent the 
autumn of 1864 in southwest Virginia drilling 
reserve regiments composed of men over forty- 
five and boys under eighteen. It was a hard 
thing to make men old enough to be my father 
and boys younger than myself look alike and 
march alike. We had a battle at the Salt Works 
with Burbridge that November and repulsed him 
handsomely. Then I was ordered to report to 
Major Boggs, commanding the artillery defences 
on the line of the Richmond and Danville Railroad 
from Richmond to Danville. I was his adjutant. 
We had no end of guns. We had batteries at 
Mattoax, High Bridge, Staunton River, Danville, 
and I do not remember how many other points. 
I think there were, in all, at these numerous points 
about one hundred heavy guns. To man them 
we had about one hundred men. As each point 
on the line was threatened we concentrated our 
raen there; and before preparing to shoot the 
enemy we had to clear away the grass from 
about the guns and clean the birds' jiests out of 
the muzzles, for between times the guns took 
care of themselves. I had several opportunities, 
upon visits to Richmond, during that winter to 
see Mr. Davis. The war had aged him very much. 
I remember calling upon him officially, in company 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 87 

with my father upon one occasion, to see him about 
some promotions in my father's brigade. Mr. 
Davis was very civil and kind, but seemed to me 
to have reaUzed then that our struggle could only 
be successful by a miracle. I think everybody 
believed he was unselfishly devoted to the cause 
and gave him credit for doing the best he knew 
how for our success, but candour compels the 
statement that he was not as popular as he might 
have been, and that such faith as was left in our 
success pinned itself to our armies in the field and 
their great commanders. General Lee was adored 
by our people, and, notwithstanding many retreats 
and failures, the people of the South believed in the 
greatness and capacity of General Joseph E. 
Johnston as second only to Lee. 

President Davis's action in removing General 
Johnston before Atlanta was deeply resented by 
the Confederate masses, and, while everybody 
regarded Hood as the bravest of the brave, people 
did not believe he had the ability to command the 
Southern Army. It is true that General Johnston 
was a hard man to deal with ; but speaking merely 
of public sentiment, as I saw it and heard it, 
the feeling was that Mr. Davis was not only 
unfriendly to Johnston but that he was surrounded 
by an old army clique who felt the same way, and 
that he was influenced by them. 

Mr. Davis had the credit, justly or unjustly, of 
having a particular set of favourites and advisers; 



88 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

of not having the faculty of taking all his leaders 
into his confidence; in a word, of not being a 
"mixer," as Mr. Lincoln was; of esteeming those 
who were in his particular circle too highly and 
underrating the capacity and the influence of 
those not in his coterie. For instance, it was gener- 
ally believed that Mr. Davis set too high an 
estimate upon General Bragg and General Hardee, 
and that he was too prone to overlook the merits 
of anybody else until he had exhausted every 
effort to secure a West-Pointer. Then, too, among 
the army officers themselves, there was a feeling 
that he had brought over with him a great many 
old prejudices, inherited from the long standing 
feud between the line and the staff which arose 
when he was Secretary of War. Mr. Davis was 
by his first marriage son-in-law of General Zachary 
Taylor. It may not be generally known that 
there was considerable jealousy between General 
Taylor and General Winfield Scott; that even 
in the time of Mr. Davis's incumbency of the War 
Office the conflict between the Adjutant- General's 
Office and the General of the Army arose; and 
that General Lee was the most beloved subordinate 
of General Scott. The conflict continued in the 
United States Army from that time until the 
creation of the General Staff. It was so flagrant 
when General Sherman was Commanding General 
that he removed his headquarters to St. Louis, 
and we all remember what a time we had between 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 89 

Adjutant-General Corbin and General Miles during 
the Spanish War. 

It seems amusing that the same controversy was 
transferred to the Confederacy, and that the es- 
trangements and jealousies begotten by it should 
have continued to be felt there. Yet it was 
generally believed to be so. Justly or unjustly, 
it detracted from the popularity of Mr. Davis. 

The next occasion upon which I met Mr. Davis 
was when Richmond was evacuated. My station 
was at Clover, a depot on the line between Rich- 
mond and Danville. In another book I have 
described how I first heard of the evacuation of 
the city, and how train after train passed by 
Clover laden with the debris of the burning 
capitol. Early on the morning of Tuesday, 
April, 5th, as I stood upon the platform, I caught 
sight of my brother-in-law. Doctor Gamett, upon 
a train. Going to speak to him, I found he was 
with President Davis. He was Mr. Davis's family 
physician. Among the others on the train I 
only recall General Bragg and, if I mistake not, 
Colonel Archer Anderson of Richmond, who 
was in some way connected with his staff. Mr. 
Davis was very pale and weary looking, but was 
exceedingly gentle and gracious, and as the train 
moved away quickly I had little or no conversation 
with him. 

Five days later I reported to him in Danville 
at the home of the late Major William T. Sutherlin. 



90 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

I was bearer of the last despatch he ever received 
from General Lee. In another book I have 
described the circumstances under which I was 
sent in to communicate with General Lee, and the 
trials and tribulations of that trip. Suffice it to 
say here that, having reached General Lee and 
received his communication at Farmville, I rode 
back to Danville and delivered my despatches to 
President Davis in person. It was the first com- 
munication he had received from General Lee 
since he had left Richmond. He mentions my 
visit in his book. A number of the members of 
his Cabinet were present when he questioned me 
concerning the location and condition of General 
Lee's army. I knew the condition of the army 
was very bad; that we had sustained a severe 
defeat and the loss of many prisoners at Sailors' 
Creek; that the army had been pressed off its 
proposed line of retreat by the route of the Dan- 
ville railroad and was retiring along the Southside 
road toward Lynchburg; and that the cavalry of 
the enemy was already considerably ahead of it 
on its flank. Pressed for my own convictions, I ex- 
pressed the fear that it must surrender. But I fear 
that my estimate of the number of troops remaining 
to General Lee must have shaken the faith of Mr. 
Davis in my other statements, for I thought General 
Lee still had 30,000 men left, whereas he had not 
many more than that when he left Petersburg, and 
when he surrendered he had but 8,000 muskets. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 91 

I shall never forget the courtesy and patience 
with which Mr. Davis conducted his examination 
of me, or his fatherly interest in seeing that I 
was fed and cared for when he learned what a 
trying journey I had made. He gave me return 
despatches the following morning and I started 
with them to General Lee, but I never delivered 
them, for upon reaching Halifax Court House I 
heard of his surrender and turned southward to 
Johnston's army. 

The next time I saw Mr. Davis was under very 
changed conditions. I cannot fix the exact date 
in my memory, and it is not sufficiently important 
to hunt it up. During the war all my father's 
household effects were transferred from our home 
at Rolleston to Fortress Monroe. My father 
would not take any step to obtain their restoration 
because it involved taking some kind of oaths. 
Finally the War Department gave an order for 
their delivery to my mother, and I was selected 
to go down to Fortress Monroe and receive them. 
Being a very ardent and bumptious young rebel, 
when I arrived at Old Point I registered at Phoebus 's 
Hotel, wrote a formal letter to the general com- 
manding announcing my arrival, and asked at 
what hour I might present myself and my orders, 
identify my property and receive it. At that 
time the only hotel on the point was a little 
building about forty feet square and two stories 
high, built by Harrison Phoebus and called the 



92 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Hygeia, after the old Hygeia which had been 
destroyed. This house would not accommodate 
over twenty people. Phoebus himself was express 
agent, steamboat agent and general utility man 
about the wharf, and lived in a little shack 
built of cracker boxes in rear of his hotel. Many 
a time I have seen him catch the landing rope from 
the steamers. Afterward, on the site of his hotel 
and house he built a splendid hotel, and at one 
time had a net profit of $150,000 a year. He was 
a prince of hosts and made me feel at home 
in his little hotel while I awaited a reph^ from 
General Hays, the Commandant. Meanwhile, in 
my mind I had been figuring out how formal and*' 
dignified the interview would be with the officer 
in charge of my property. 

Suddenly the door was flung wide open and a 
handsome young blond officer, dressed in the 
height of army style, stalked in with a free and 
easy air, exclaiming in a loud voice, " Hello, 
Phoebus! Is there a young chap named Wise 
somewhere about here?" Phoebus introduced us. 
"Hello Wise!" said he. "Glad to see you! 
Come ahead, let's have a drink, quick." And 
before I could catch my breath he had^me by the 
hand and was dragging me to the bar in a little 
side room. It was Lieutenant Wallace F. Ran- 
dolph of Philadelphia, then serving on General 
Hays's staff. The gentleman has recently been 
retired with rank of Major General, for old age. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 93 

He was then the jolHest, liveliest soul in the army, 
and as pretty food for gunpowder as ever my eyes 
rested upon. It was the beginning of a life-long 
friendship, and in Cuba his attachment transferred 
itself from me to my oldest boy, a subaltern under 
him, and about the age dear old "Wally" Ran- 
dolph was when we first met. His tongue went 
on like a policeman's rattle. " Glad to see you. 
Wise. Know all about you — first thing I remem- 
ber was seeing the whole City of Philadelphia in 
mourning for your old grandfather. Say, have 
another drink. No? That's strange! Well, come 
on. ' Old Billy ' wants you to come straight to 
the house. He is a warm admirer of your father, 
and Mrs. Hays knows all your mother's people. 
Can't go? Well, I guess you will. This is no 
place for a white man to stay. Don't be afraid 
you'll leave the liquor behind. Old Billy loves 
it as well as anybody and has a-plenty of it 
at his house. Besides, we can stop on the way 
up and get some at the Officers' Club. Oh, I 
don't want to hear any more of that talk. Come 
on. We'll be late for dinner. Phoebus, send 
Wise's baggage up to the General's." 

Randolph went at me like a whirlwind, and 
before I knew it I was accompanying him, in spite 
of all protests, to become the guest of General 
Hays. 

He was a charming host and his wife a lovely 
woman. They did everything to make my stay 



94 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

pleasant. General Hays, or "Old Billy," as 
everybody called him, was then an elderly man, 
and prior to the Civil War had been an ardent 
admirer of my father in his great campaign against 
Know-Nothingism. I was astonished to hear his 
familiarity with my father's career and speeches. 
In the Civil War General Hays commanded the 
" loo guns" on Malvern Hill, with which McClellan 
held Lee in check and covered the retirement of 
the Federal army to Harrison's landing. The old 
fellow was now enjoying the otium cum dignitate 
of peace and showed the effect of high living. 
There was nothing he could do to help me collect 
my father's things that was omitted. I think he 
would have given me a piece of the fort if I 
had claimed it. And as for Randolph, he was the 
joUiest, the readiest, the most willing companion 
I had met in years. 

"Would you like to call upon Mr. Davis?" 
said the General the following morning. Assured 
that I would, he told me I might do so. There 
were no formalities about it. An order on a 
visiting card, directing all sentinels to allow me 
to pass, gave me access to the quarters where Mr. 
Davis lived. He occupied at that time a suite 
of casemate rooms on the southeast face of the 
fort, somewhere near to the flag-staff. They 
are quarters which, ever since I have known the 
fort, have been officers' quarters. 

Mr. and Mrs. Davis were both there then. I 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 95 

visited them unaccompanied by anybody. They 
were a Httle surprised, I think, at seeing a Southern 
friend come up so boldly, but they seemed gratified 
also, and were most kind in their welcome. Mr. 
Davis was more gracious than I ever saw him. 
He took my hand between both of his and smilingly 
said, "Why, Captain, I am delighted to see you," 
and I checked him laughmgly by replying, "Ah, 
Mr. President, you mock me with a title you never 
gave me when you might have done so. I was 
only a lieutenant, and it's too late now." Both 
he and Mrs. Davis laughed heartily at the conceit, 
and he said, "Well, you ought to have been a 
captain anyhow." 

Then we had a real good heart-to-heart old- 
fashioned talk, and what rejoiced me most was 
the prospect that he was soon to be released. 
He was looking remarkably well, and his only 
complaint was that the dampness of the location 
inclined him to rheumatism. Soon after that I 
think his quarters were changed to Carroll 
Hall. But everywhere is damp in Fortress 
Monroe. 

I enjoyed that visit. When it was over I felt 
nearer to Mr. Davis and appreciated what he had 
done and suffered for the Confederate cause more 
than I had ever done before. 

I am sure I saw him when he came to Richmond 
afterward and Horace Greeley became one of his 
bondsmen. I think he was the guest of Mr. 



96 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Lyons, but I have no distinct recollection 
about it. 

But the memory of Mr. Davis which impresses 
me as much as any other is of his visit to Richmond 
in 1875, when the statue of Stonewall Jackson was 
unveiled. That was a most memorable occasion. 
Mr. Davis delivered an address before the Society 
of the Army of Northern Virginia the night after 
the unveiling. He spoke in the Presbyterian 
Church which stood on the site of the present 
City Hall in Richmond. I had heard much of his 
eloquence but had never heard him speak but once, 
and then under very favourable circumstances. 
The speech he delivered in 1875 was one of the 
very best and one of the most eloquent speeches 
I ever heard. Moreover it was in singularly good 
taste, free from all reproaches or bad blood or 
recrimination. Reduced to its last analysis, it 
said, " God knows we believed we were right. 
We did everything that men could do to maintain 
our convictions. Our times are in His hands. 
Let us accept the results without murmur. But 
above all, let us never cease to honour and maintain 
the glory of our dead." 

Say what anybody will about Mr. Davis, his 
conduct from the end of the war to the time of 
his death was irreproachable; irreproachable, too, 
under strains which were very hard to bear. 
He was superbly silent under reproaches that 
were unjust, tantalising and oftentimes ineffably 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 97 

mean. It distresses me to this day whenever I 
hear anybody speak disparagingly of this man, 
who was unquestionably devoted to the cause 
for which he lived and died, and who was infinitely 
greater than his traducers. 



ANDREW JOHNSON 



V.-ANDREW JOHNSON 

If anybody had told me during the gloomy, 
embittered, humiliating time of Andrew Johnson's 
Presidency that he would " dance at my wedding " 
I am sure I would have repelled the suggestion 
as altogether improbable and revolting. Yet, 
while Andrew Johnson did not dance, nor did any- 
body else dance at that good Presbyterian function, 
he was there, and probably the most conspicuous 
individual present. 

The older people, by whom I was surrounded and 
from whose opinions mine were formed, were 
shocked at the death of Mr. Lincoln and regarded 
it as a dire disaster from several points of view. 
It not only deprived the Southern people in our 
hour of need of that charity and desire for restored 
fraternity which they were already beginning to 
recognise as prominent characteristics of Mr. 
Lincoln, but it embittered the Northern people 
against us to a degree that they never felt before. 
It elevated to his place, amidst this excitement and 
vindictiveness, a man who was believed by every- 
body in the South to be vengeful by nature and to 
cherish a life-long grudge against that class of South- 
ern people which, in all his political campaigns, he 
had never failed to denounce as the " aristocracy." 



102 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Mr. Johnson's very remarkable career in Ten- 
nessee was, from its beginning, based upon the 
strong, fierce, aggressive appeal to what he was 
pleased to call the "masses" against the other 
elements of the community denominated by him 
as the "classes." 

The Whig party of Tennessee, as parties were 
aligned for many years before the outbreak of 
the Civil War, was not only strong but, as far 
as such a thing may be in a democracy, the patri- 
cian organisation of the State. Under the leader- 
ship of John Bell it was a Union party, but it was 
exceedingly conservative upon the slavery ques- 
tion, and embraced in its ranks the bulk of the 
property owners and educated classes of the 
State. 

It was indeed the highest type of that con- 
servative Federal loyalty, of which Henry Clay 
in his day was the idol in the West. Its opponent 
was the party of Andrew Jackson, or " Old Hick- 
ory," as he was universally called in Tennessee; 
a party which was strong and oftentimes victor- 
ious. But the personnel of General Jackson's 
party was nothing like so distinguished as that of 
the Whigs of Tennessee. The old Whig organisa- 
tion, under the leadership of Clay and Bell, had 
a contempt for the democracy and looked upon 
it as the struggle of the rabble clamouring against 
the better elements of society. 

Andrew Jackson was in his day unquestionably 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 103 

one of the greatest politicians this country ever 
produced, and he possessed a hold upon the imag- 
ination and the affections of the masses of the 
people, not only in his own State but throughout 
the whole country, which no other man has ever 
had unless it be the present incumbent of the 
White House. His following came from the 
common people, who believed that in him they 
saw the embodiment of their ideas of real democ- 
racy. They believed that he had a true conception 
of the proper relations between the States and 
Federal Government. They were captivated by 
his personal courage, his military prowess and his 
political resourcefulness. They ridiculed the idea 
so strongly put forth by his opponents that he 
was a tyrant and a despot for asserting the power 
of the Federal Government to maintain its own 
authority, and they had an abiding faith that he 
loved the rights of the common people and the 
masses too sincerely to permit those rights to be 
infringed upon either by unwarranted Federal 
usurpation or by class legislation in the States, 
They pinned their faith to Andrew Jackson as the 
true embodiment of a Federal Democrat. As 
long as he lived he was almost invincible in Tennes- 
see. After the death of General Jackson, however, 
the State of Tennessee for some time lacked a 
successor to him on the Democratic side powerful 
enough to cope with the stubborn efforts for control 
never relinquished by the wealthy and powerful 



104 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Whig organisation of the State. Nobody has yet 
appeared in Tennessee to take the place of Andrew 
Jackson, but Andrew Johnson certainly possessed 
some very virile characteristics and made a deep 
impression upon his time. He grew up an obscure 
and ignorant boy of the very humblest, and 
possibly even doubtful, antecedents, of that class 
of people known in the South as " poor whites " ; he 
drifted from North Carolina into Tennessee, 
where his youth was spent in the little village of 
Greenville. To people of his station the wealthy 
homes of the Whigs were virtually closed. How 
they lived, what their homes contained, their 
social point of view, their political ideals, were 
matters about which people of his class were even 
more ignorant than were the negroes themselves. 
The latter in the capacity of household servants 
saw and heard something of these things, while 
to the poor whites they were almost, if not abso- 
lutely, unknown. Johnson's affiliation with the 
party of the people, as Democracy was called, was 
natural, for there was an impassable social gulf 
between him and the aristocracy, as the old 
Whig nabobs were denominated. He doubtless 
regarded them as a proud, disdainful race who 
looked down upon him, and he doubtless thought 
that their views of political administration were 
all tinged by motives of selfishness rather than by 
any interest in the elevation of the common people 
or kindliness to his class. It was this feeling, no 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 105 

doubt, which made the masses of the poor Southern 
whites Democrats in those days. 

Andrew Johnson began Hfe as a tailor in the 
little town of Greenville in East Tennessee, and the 
story of his ignorance and lack of advantages 
has been too often told to need repetition here. 
His wife actually taught him to read, it is said. 
It must have been a cheerless and unhappy ex- 
istence if he was ambitious, for the task of sur- 
mounting the difficulties which confronted him 
must have seemed almost hopeless. In time, how- 
ever, he became Town Councilman, Mayor, Mem- 
ber of the Legislature, Governor and Vice-President 
and President. During the time of his boyhood 
there lived in the same town with him an orphaned 
Virginia boy, of about his own age, who was his 
very opposite in his social antecedents. His 
name was Hugh Douglas, and he was what 
Walter Scott describes as "a penniless laird wi' 
a lang pedigree." His grandfather, William Doug- 
las, a cadet of the house of Douglas of Garallan in 
Ayrshire, went to Virginia one hundred years 
before and became a prominent man in Loudoun 
County, and his mother was a Beverley, connected 
with all the old Virginia Byrds, Blands, Randolphs, 
Corbins and what not. Left an impoverished 
orphan while he was yet a small boy, he had been 
sent to a paternal aunt in Greenville, and was a 
clerk in the store of his uncle, who was one of the 
village nabobs. 



io6 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Although their antecedents were so different 
their lonely situation was much the same, and a 
warm friendship grew up between Andy Johnson 
and Hugh Douglas. Many a day they met and 
for lack of other employment talked politics 
together, and, although one was a disciple of 
Clay and the other a follower of Jackson, these 
political differences never interfered with their 
boyish friendship. 

Andy Johnson made for Hugh Douglas the 
first suit of man's clothes he ever wore. As they 
grew up their lots in life separated them. Young 
Douglas was energetic and successful and estab- 
lished a business of his own in a distant town. 
Young Johnson entered upon a career of poli- 
tics. Both prospered, and some years before the 
war Douglas moved to Nashville and became one 
of the merchant princes of that place. John- 
son also moved to Nashville, having become 
the leader of the Anti-Know-Nothing party in 
Tennessee, and was elected Governor of the 
State. At Nashville their boyish friendship was 
renewed and cemented. Mr. Douglas made it a 
point to send Mr. Johnson every year upon his 
birthday a box of the same kind of the old- 
fashioned red bandana handkerchiefs which they 
had both used when they were boys in Greenville. 
Perhaps no act of kindness which he ever did, and 
he did a great many, ever so well repaid him, for 
in time war broke out. Douglas was a Union man, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 107 

but his great big heart was so generous that it 
went out in sympathy to every human being on 
this earth in need, so he helped the Confederate 
soldiers with unstinted generosity to blankets and 
to every comfort of any kind possessed by him. 
When the Union troops took possession of Nash- 
ville certain people would have aiTCsted Mr. 
Douglas and would have confiscated his property 
and subjected him to all the penalties of the 
times, as one who had given aid and comfort to 
rebels, but it made no difference with Andrew 
Johnson. He knew him, knew his loyalty, knew 
the motives which had prompted his charities and 
covered him with the segis of his protection, 
brought him through the war unmolested, and 
even after it was over gave him his voluntary 
testimony, whereby Mr. Douglas was enabled to 
get compensation for the use and occupation of 
his property by Federal troops ; and the friendship 
between the two lasted and was warm and generous 
and kindly until death separated them, although 
it was hard to define what they had in common 
unless it was the memory of the cheerless and 
common struggles of their boyhood. 

These things came to my knowledge in later 
years, when I married the daughter of Mr. Douglas, 
but they were unknown to me when the war 
ended and while Andrew Johnson was President. 
Many was the day at that time when I heard 
the Confederate leaders bemoan the hard fate 



io8 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

which had placed them at the mercy of Andrew 
Johnson. He had given utterance to his re- 
pugnance to them on many pubhc occasions ; had 
declared that the Southern aristocracy would 
stop at nothing to maintain their oligarchy; that 
they had sought to destroy the Union, and had 
dragged the loyal masses of the South into seces- 
sion with no higher motive than to perpetuate 
their slave tyranny; and one of his first steps 
after the war was ended was to issue a proclama- 
tion compelling all owners of property of the 
value of twenty thousand dollars or more to 
make special application to him for pardon. It 
was believed that the motive of this requirement 
was to add to their humiliation. This and many 
other things prepared the Southern people to 
find in him a revengeful and vindictive enemy. 

One might hear in any gathering of Southern 
men such expressions as " Expect mercy or 
kindness from Andrew Johnson, because he is a 
Southern man? Bah! He hates a Southern gen- 
tleman because he is himself a 'poor white.' He 
has a life-long grudge against them. He is a sans- 
culotte who would, if he could, erect a guillotine and 
start the loaded tumbrels of the French Revolution 
through the streets in Washington." But in a 
short while Johnson changed his whole attitude 
toward the South — ^he became the advocate and 
champion of liberal treatment of the Southerners. 
This was when he had become embroiled with the 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 109 

Radical leaders in Congress. His friendship for 
the South then was more injurious, if possible, 
than his former enmity had been, for the dominant 
Radicals and Stalwarts, who impeached him, took 
delight in harrowing the Southern people because 
he announced himself as opposed to that policy. 
Notwithstanding the long friendship between 
Mr. Johnson and Mr. Douglas, Mr. Johnson had 
never entered the house of Mr. Douglas prior to the 
time of my marriage. The real reason for this 
the ex-President did not perhaps know. Mrs. 
Douglas was not only an aristocrat in her feelings 
but was a very religious and strict Presbyterian. 
She regarded Andy Johnson as the prince of 
vulgarians, and his prominence in public life did not 
in the least affect that firm and fixed opinion. 
Moreover, he was reputed to be a drinking man, 
which fact was of itself sufficient to bar him from 
all precincts presided over by her. And so it had 
come about that, notwithstanding many adroit 
efforts made by Mr. Douglas in the past to over- 
come her prejudice and induce her to permit him 
to entertain Johnson, she had until now stoutly 
resisted and rejected every overture. Shortly 
before my marriage, which occurred November 
3, 1869, Mr. Douglas announced to me confiden- 
tially, evidently with great pride and satisfaction, 
that President Johnson would be present at the 
ceremony. How he overcame the scruples of his 
wife I never learned, but at the appointed time 



no RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Mr. Johnson was there. It would have amused 
anybody who knew of the struggle by which this 
had been brought about to note the manner of 
Mrs. Douglas toward her distinguished guest. 
She was of course too refined to be rude to him 
in her own house, but her whole bearing was that 
of one who, while she had allowed him to appear, 
had no idea of permitting him to become too 
intimate, and who was apprehensive all the time 
that he might do something extraordinarily terrible 
at any moment. On the other hand, Mr. Douglas 
was the soul of genial hospitality, was flattered 
at the compliment of Mr. Johnson's presence, and 
did everything in his power to show him his appre- 
ciation. 

Certainly nobody could have been more courte- 
ous or punctilious or have borne himself with more 
dignity or decorum than did the ex-President. 
He had a dull, stolid face, with hard cynical lines 
about the mouth, but his manners were excellent 
and his conversation both interesting and com- 
plimentary. To my surprise he gave, as the chief 
reason for his coming, his desire to do honour to 
my father, for whom he expressed great admira- 
tion. He explained that the Anti-Know-Nothing 
campaign in Tennessee had followed almost im- 
mediately after that in Virginia; that antici- 
pating its coming he had devoted himself studi- 
ously to m.y father's campaign, with great inter- 
est and admiration, and that he had to a 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 



III 



large extent modelled his own campaign upon 
that. After quite a lengthy talk, he begged me to 
present his compliments to my father and to 
assure him that notwithstanding all the interven- 
ing national differences he still had no warmer 
admirer than himself for his brilliant victory in 
1855. When I returned to Virginia and reported 
this interview to my father I think he heard the 
account somewhat sheepishly, for to my certain 
knowledge he had spent about four years of his 
life, devoting about an hour a day, to denunciation 
of Andy Johnson ; and if the Recording Angel kept 
tab upon his expletives it must have required a 
special detail for the book-keeping work, and the 
entries must have filled a volume. 

My next sight of Mr. Johnson was probably a 
year or so later, shortly before his death. It was 
soon after his campaign before the Tennessee 
Legislature for the Senate. At that time his habits 
had become exceedingly dissipated, and one of his 
peculiarities was that he appeared to select very 
young men as his companions in his debauches. 
His headquarters were at the Maxwell House at 
that time. A band serenaded him and the street 
was thronged with an immense crowd, cheering 
and calling loudly for a speech. After a long 
delay the ex- President appeared upon the hotel 
balcony and acknowledged the compliment, but 
his condition was such that he was totally unable 
to speak coherently and, in fact, found difficulty 



112 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 

in keeping on his feet. It was a pitiful sight to 
see him standing there, holding on to the iron 
railing in front of him and swaying back and forth, 
almost inarticulate with drink. With him at 
the time was one of the wittiest and most impudent 
youngsters I ever knew. He was a youn^ Virgin- 
ian who had gone to Nashville to practise law 
and had become the boon companion and intimate 
of Mr. Johnson. He was himself very much under 
the influence of liquor, and feeling that somebody 
ought to speak and a sort of responsibility for "ex- 
President Johnson, he began an address which, 
with its wild extravagance and maudlin absurdity, 
convulsed the crowd with laughter imtil it grew 
impatient and hooted him down. It was a 
sight I shall never forget — the bloated, stupid, 
helpless look of Mr. Johnson, as he was hurried 
away from the balcony to his rooms by his friends 
and led staggering through the corridors of the 
Maxwell House. He died shortly after the occur- 
rence just related. 



ULYSSES S. GRANT 



VI.— ULYSSES S. GRANT 

Although I had seen General Grant at a 
distance on numerous occasions, it was seven or 
eight years after the close of the Civil War before 
I met him face to face, and then it was in a most 
unusual way. Business called me to Long Branch, 
where I saw the President every day driving 
back and forth upon the avenues. On my way 
home I took a sleeper in Philadelphia. It was 
quite late, a hot night, and I was dirty. I 
went into the lavatory of the sleeping car, removed 
my coat and collar, and proceeded to give myself 
a good scrubbing. While so engaged, a quiet man 
slipped into the compartment and lit a cigar. 
No one else was present, for nearly everybody else 
on the car was asleep. Ours was the last sleeper, 
and next to it was an excursion car filled with one 
of the noisiest and j oiliest of crowds. Men and 
women were singing. 

" My, what a noisy crowd," said L " If they keep 
that up we will not get much sleep." The remark 
was made in the free and easy way in which one 
traveller addresses another upon a train, and 
without even looking closely at my companion. 
"They are not going far, I think. It is an ex- 
cursion from Wilmington, I believe. I like to see 

"5 



ii6 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

them happy," was the prompt democratic reply. 
Something in the voice or manner of the speaker 
made me pause with the towel in my hands and 
turn toward him. I knew the face. There was 
no mistaking it. It was that of the President of 
the United States. He was sitting there alone, 
just as serene and devoid of self-consciousness as 
any Bill Smith or Tom Jones in all America. I 
looked at him incredulously, and he returned my 
glance steadily. "I beg your pardon," I stam- 
mered forth. " But— is this— General — President 
Grant?" He nodded assent. "Again, I beg 
your pardon, Mr. President. When I addressed 
you so familiarly I had no idea who you were. 

In fact, sir, one would not expect to meet " 

"That's all right," said he. "Don't explain it. 
Glad to see you. I like a cigar before retiring, 
and slipped in here to have a smoke. ' ' I introduced 
myself. He asked me who I was and, when I told 
him, said he knew all about my people. Then he 
was wide awake. He began to ask me all sorts 
of questions. Inquired if our people were getting 
along all right now. Asked if we were satisfied 
with the results of the war. Asked about certain 
people he knew. Said he hoped the Southern 
people would accept the results. Among other 
things, I remember one expression which came 
unconnected with anything that preceded it. 
It was — "The Southern newspapers have done 
more harm than any other influence." People 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 117 

have often said General Grant was a taciturn man. 
I never found him so. He always talked to me, 
and he always seemed to delight in putting ques- 
tions as fast as he could ask them. I was im- 
mensely flattered, for I was not over twenty-four 
of twenty-five years of age. He said, among other 
things, " I like to hear what people like you think." 
Then he added, "Did you like army life?" "I 
loved it. My heart was broken when I lost my job, 
General," I replied, laughingly. "I wish we had 
a lot of you young fellows in the service now. 
I believe it would be a great thing for restored 
fraternity," said he. Then he added, "But 
public sentiment is not ready for it yet." 

"What are you doing for a living?" 

"Practising law." 

"Like it?" 

"Yes, sir, but it is not as good fun as fighting." 

And the President laughed, although they say 
he was not much given to it. 

I think we had passed Havre de Grace when 
our real friendly private, almost intimate, talk was 
ended. . I would have remained all night with him 
if he had permitted me, for he fascinated me. But 
he had had enough of me and arose, saying, 
"Good night, I'm glad I met you. You must 
come to see me some time when you visit Wash- 
ington." He did not say "I like you," but I 
thought he did, and he showed it in many ways, 
on many occasions, afterward. And I liked him. 



ii8 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

He was one of the simplest, most genuine, direct 
and manly men I ever saw. 

About three weeks afterward I went into the 
United States Court in Richmond to attend to 
some business. A jury trial was in progress 
before Judge Underwood. He beckoned to me 
to come up and take a seat beside him, as judges 
do when they want to talk with lawyers. Lean- 
ing over to me he said, in his slow, drawling way, 
" I was in Washington a few days ago and saw 
the President. He was asking [me about you. 
Told me he met you on a train. You ought 
to go to see him some time when you are there. 
He likes you." I thanked him and was, of 
course, most gratified. I wish I had had the 
manhood to vote for Grant in 1872, but I did 
not. Prejudice was so strong I could not brave 
it. But I would not vote for Greeley. I simply 
sneaked and stayed away from the polls. Went 
hunting! The old trick. 

After the interview referred to I went to see 
General Grant, and he was very civil to me. It 
must have been several years later that I had an 
amusing experience with him. It was during his 
second term, when the prosecutions were going on 
all over the country against the distillers and 
rectifiers. I was employed to defend a man who 
had been a large rectifier in Petersburg, and who was 
charged with extensive frauds upon the revenue. 
He was indicted, and the distillery was libeled in 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 119 

the United States Circuit Court. I was retained 
in both the civil and criminal cases. Judge 
Lunsford L. Lewis was United States Attorney. 
My poor old client was no doubt guilty. He was 
of the class, quite prevalent in those days, that 
believed it was fair to cheat the Government. 
But a better hearted creature never lived. He 
had been a good soldier, and had but lately 
married an excellent wife and had a young child. 
We had about five or six trials, and as many 
hung juries. The Government had gone to great 
expense preparing for the trial. First we would 
try the criminal charge, and have a hung jury. 
Then we would shift to a trial of the libel 
against the distillery, with like result. Lewis 
was pertinacious in his prosecution, feeling sure 
of the man's guilt; and my whole soul was 
concentrated upon his defence. The evidence 
was substantially the same in both cases. Now, 
the rule of law in a criminal case against a man is 
that the evidence, in order to convict him, should 
preponderate in favour of his guilt beyond a 
reasonable doubt; while in a proceeding in rem 
to forfeit a distillery it is only necessary to estab- 
lish the charge by a preponderance of evidence. 
But in the first three or four trials I succeeded in 
securing hung juries whether Lewis elected to try 
the indictment against the man or the libel against 
the distillery. At last I came to grief. The 
early trials were before Judge Hughes, the District 



I20 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Judge, but at last, when the trial of the man on 
the indictment came on for the second or third 
time, Judge Hugh L. Bond, the Circuit Judge, 
was on the bench. Bond was an able man but 
no student, and while he was a good fellow in 
private life he was one of the worst bullies and 
most relentless judges I ever practised before. 
He was impatient of delays, imperious in his 
rulings and merciless in his instructions against a 
prisoner when he chose to be. He made short 
shrift of my client and myself. He wanted 
to leave for his home in Baltimore. I saved 
points and asked many instructions. Bond, 
when it came to instructions, blurted right out 
to the jury that the man was guilty, the evidence 
sufficient, and that they ought to bring in a 
verdict cf conviction. They did so. My client, 
who was a man of respectable antecedents, was 
horrified when Bond proceeded to sentence him 
to four years in Auburn Penitentiary in New York. 
The scene in Court when that poor old fellow was 
sentenced was one of the most pathetic experi- 
ences of my practice, but it made no impression 
on Judge Bond. I promptly ordered a copy 
of the record and prepared to fight. 

Then Bond left and Judge Hughes continued 
to try cases at the term. The Government 
pressed the libel suit to forfeit the distillery. I 
went into that case with fear and trembling. But 
the reader may imagine my delight at the end 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 121 

of a wearying trial, on the same evidence upon 
which the prisoner had been convicted, when the 
jury, after a long retirement, brought in a verdict 
acquitting the distillery. 

Thus, on the same facts, one jury found a man 
guilty beyond reasonable doubt, and another 
held that the evidence did not even preponderate 
in favour of the Government. It was an amusing 
result to everybody but my poor old client, who 
was under sentence. On this state of facts I 
resolved to waste no time on attempted appeals, 
but to take both records to Washington, to show 
that there must be a reasonable doubt about 
his guilt and base my appeal for executive clemency 
upon that palpable fact. Accordingly, armed 
with both records, I repaired to Washington, 
having first secured a stay of execution which 
detained my client in Richmond until his fate 
was settled. Repairing to the White House, 
armed with the two great rolls of record, I was 
admitted, after a long delay, into the President's 
office. He was cordial as usual and made me feel 
at home. "What have you there?" he asked, 
looking at my records with evident concern. I 
told him briefly. Concluding, I said: "Mr. Presi- 
dent, the Judge, in the trial of my client, ran away 
with the jury, bullied me and bullied them, and 
prejudiced my client. Both cases show the same 
facts. In one case, where only a preponderance 
of evidence was required, a jury acquitted. Yet 



122 RECOLLECTIONS OP 

in the other, requiring proof beyond a reasonable 
doubt, the Court, on the same testimony, forced 
the jury to convict. Now does not that look like 
a case of reasonable doubt? Does it not look as 
if the Judge prejudiced the jury against the 
prisoner?" 

The President had begun to write. He paused, 
looked up, and his eye twinkled with merriment. 
"Does look that way," said he, "unless — unless — 
unless there was prejudice in favour of the dis- 
tillery! " Finishing the writing, he handed it to me, 
addressed to Judge Gray, the officer in charge of 
Pardons in the Department of Justice. It simply 
said, " Dear Judge — Young Mr. Wise, bearer of 
this, is a friend of mine. Do what you can for him." 

When I reached the Department I found that 
Judge Bond had anticipated my coming and 
written a violent protest to the President against 
any clemency to my client. Judge Gray and I 
read the letter of Judge Bond, and I feared it was 
going to have a damaging effect, but he said, 
"We all know Bond!" About two weeks later 
the pardon came, and Judge Gray and I were 
sworn friends as long as he lived. 

The last time I ever saw General Qrant was in 
New York. I was visiting the city negotiating 
for a large amount of money. He was then in the 
firm of Grant & Ward. I was awaiting a down-town 
train at the Twenty-third Street elevated station. 
He came up the steps and recognised me at once. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 123 

It was near mid-day and the cars were not crowded, 
so that we took seats together. He was looking 
badly. Learning that I was interested in nego- 
tiating a large loan, he told me that possibly his 
firm might handle the matter and gave me the 
card of Ferdinand Ward, with the words written 
on the back, " Introducing Mr. Wise, my friend. 
U. S. G." I called upon Ward, whose office was 
somewhere about where the Manhattan Life 
Building now stands. I was very much repelled 
by the man's appearance. He sent me to see 
James D. Fish at the Marine Bank. Mr. Fish 
gave me valuable employment in a matter 
pertaining to a life insurance company of which 
he was receiver, but nothing was done in the 
original business about which Ward had sent me 
to see him. Poor old Fish was a kind-hearted, 
jolly, companionable man, and I deeply regretted 
his subsequent troubles. 

Shortly before the death of my father business 
took him to Washington, and he called upon Presi- 
dent Grant, whom he had never met. He was 
much impressed by Grant's accurate knowledge 
and power of clear statement. It was soon 
after the great Chicago fire, and I remember his 
vivid recital of President Grant's description of 
the origin, cause, nature, progress and results 
of the conflagration. President and Mrs. Grant 
both showed him marked attention. During my 
father's long service in Congress he had much to 



124 RECOLLECTIONS OP 

do with the army folk and in some way had been 
kind to the Dents, and Grant himself had been 
deeply interested in the Anti-Know-Nothing cam- 
paign and had read his speeches and followed his 
career with great interest. It seems that on the 
occasion of his visit my father presented the 
President with an old ring set with a fragment of 
the Liberty Bell in Independence Hall, Phila- 
delphia. If I ever heard of the fact I had 
forgotten it until it was recalled lately by a 
gratifying episode following the death of Mrs. 
Grant. The dear old lady was fond of West 
Point. On the occasion of one of her many 
visits there she met my eldest son. Cadet (now 
Captain) Hugh Douglas Wise, and became much 
interested in the little fellow. Whenever she 
went to the post she always inquired for him, and 
often sent for him to visit her. After her death 
her son. General Frederick Dent Grant, wrote to 
my son and told him that among his mother's 
effects he had found the ring above referred to with 
a tag attached to it on which was written, "This 
ring was presented to my husband by the late 
Governor Wise, and I wish it given, after my 
death, to Captain Wise." My son, knowing that 
I was frequently called Captain, suggested to 
General Fred. Grant that she probably referred to 
me, but General Grant knew better and sent it to 
him, saying she intended it for her cadet friend, 
and so my son is now its possessor. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 125 

In a rather free talk I once had with President 
Grant about the Confederate leaders, he expressed 
feelings of the greatest kindness, admiration and 
almost affection for General Lee. I remember his 
saying that if everybody had borne themselves 
after the war as General Lee did it would have 
saved a world of trouble. I tried to draw him out 
into some expression of opinion concerning the 
relative merits of the Confederate commanders, 
but he gave no definite response. He did, how- 
ever, express such a high opinion of the general- 
ship and abilities of General Joseph E. Johnston 
and recurred to that opinion so often that, without 
his having said so, I have ever since entertained 
the notion that General Grant thought him the 
greatest Confederate commander. And other prom- 
inent Northern soldiers have said so to me posi- 
tively. Without claiming to be a competent 
military critic or qualified judge, I must say that 
for the life of me I have never been able to under- 
stand the reasoning upon which such an opinion 
is based. For a long time I seriously was inclined 
to think Grant the greatest soldier of the war, 
notwithstanding all my prejudices in favour of 
Lee; but, after a careful study of Lee's campaigns, 
especially his last grand campaign which began 
when Grant crossed the Rappahannock, May 4, 
1864, and ended at Appomattox, I believe Lee 
was the greatest soldier of the war. Nobody else 
fought a more brilliant battle than Second Manas- 



126 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

sas. Nobody did anything as astounding as 
Chancellorsville, and the Wilderness campaign, 
in which Lee with but 60,000 men met 120,000 
men under Grant and in thirty-eight days disabled 
55,995 of his enemy, without allowing that enemy 
to gain any substantial advantage, ranks Lee, in 
my opinion, as one of the greatest of military 
leaders. My authorities are: Rhodes, the His- 
torian (Vol. IV.), a Northern man, and the 
Official Records. I believe that history will 
rank Lee as the greatest soldier of the Civil War, 
and in coming to that conclusion I have certainly 
tried, however I may have failed, to be non- 
partisan. General Grant also had a high opinion 
of Stonewall Jackson. I had been a cadet at the 
school where Jackson was a professor, and the cadet 
corps of which I was a member buried Jackson. 
Grant was deeply interested in the incidents of 
Jackson's private life and the story of his idiosyn- 
crasies which I knew. Everybody knows, of 
course, how much he was attached to Longstreet. 

I cannot close these rambling reminiscences of 
General Grant without telling one other, because 
it is so illustrative of the wonderful change in his 
private fortunes brought about by the war. 

Soon after the war ended an elderly United 
States Army surgeon was stationed in Richmond. 
In the old service he had been an intimate friend 
of an old friend and neighbour of ours, Colonel 
— — . Doctor often visited Colonel 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 127 

socially, and one evening I happened to be at 

the house of Colonel when Doctor 

called. Their conversation fell upon old times, 

and Colonel asked Doctor if he knew 

Grant in the old sei'vice. 

"Yes, indeed," replied the doctor, "I knew 
him in Mexico when he was a young sub. and I 
assistant surgeon. And he was a good fellow. 
I lost sight of him for some time, and my next 
meeting with him was under peculiar circum- 
stances." 

The doctor hesitated a moment, drew out his 
pocketbook, fumbled in a side pocket of the book 
and brought forth a faded I. O. U. for $20 signed 
by Grant and dated in the fall of i860. He passed 

it to Colonel and myself, and after we had 

inspected it critically we returned it to him. See- 
ing by our expression that our curiosity was 
excited, he proceeded: 

" In the autumn of i860 I was standing on the 
steps of the As tor House, New York. A man 
approached and addressed me. I did not recog- 
nise him, and he relieved me by saying, 'You 
don't remember me. I'm Grant, formerly of 
the . Knew you in Mexico,' etc. 

"I recognised him at once. 'Doctor,' said he, 
going straight to his point, ' I came here to meet 
some people, hoping to secure employment. It 
failed. It depressed me. I've spent every dollar 
I had. Dead broke. Want money enough to 



128 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

get home. Can you help me ? Twenty dollars will 
do,' " and the doctor, laughing, said," And he looked 
his part. There was no mistaking that he was tell- 
ing the truth. I lent him the twenty dollars and 
he stepped to the desk and wrote this note. I never 
saw him again until he was a general in the army." 

" Did you try to collect it? " laughed the colonel. 

"No," said the doctor. "It is the best invest- 
ment I ever made. Grant doubtless forgot in the 
multiplicity of his cares the detail of the twenty 
dollars, but he never did forget that in his time of 
trouble I was his friend, nor has he ever forgotten 
to be my friend. I do not believe there is anything 
in reason which I might ask of him that he would 
not do for me. Whenever I see him he greets me 
with the utmost cordiality and shows his apprecia- 
tion of old friendship, even though he may have 
forgotten the details of the origin of the feeling." 

Grant always seemed to feel the liveliest interest 
in our old soldiers. I remember telling him on 
one occasion that somehow, since General Lee's 
death, the orphaned Confederates seemed to feel 
that the duty of being kind to them and looking 
after their interests had devolved on him. His 
eye brightened with gratification, and he said 
something to the effect that the feeling, curious 
as it might seem, was more or less reciprocal, and 
that they held a place in his regard second only 
to that he felt for his own men. " Curious sort of 
feeling, isn't it?" said he musingly. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 129 

He also had a soft spot in his heart for Colonel 
John S. Mosby, the Confederate guerilla, and 
Mosby was devoted to him. 

No man could be thrown for any length of time 
with Grant without admiring and respecting him. 
He was with all his abilities one of the simplest, 
most confiding and trustful of men. 

The greatest mistake the Southern people ever 
made was in not realising that if they had per- 
mitted him he would have been the best friend 
they had after the war. 



RUTHERFORD B. HAYES 



^ 



VII.-RUTHERFORD B. HAYES 

The first time I recall hearing the name of 
Rutherford B. Hayes was one morning, during 
Grant's second term, when the greenback excite- 
ment was at its height in Ohio. My father 
appeared with a newspaper containing a speech 
made by Mr. Hayes on the currency question at 
Fremont, Ohio, which he pronounced to be the 
ablest presentation of the subject he had seen for 
many years. It made an impression upon me 
and I read it, deriving great instruction from it; 
instruction which unquestionably influenced my 
views in favour of the gold basis from that time 
forth. The year of Hayes's nomination was the 
year of the great Centennial in Philadelphia. 

The Republican National Convention which 
nominated Hayes was chiefly noted for the perti- 
nacity with which the friends of President Grant 
sought to name him for a third term. Hayes was 
the outcome of a long struggle. The Democrats 
nominated Tilden. I took no part in politics and 
felt very little interest in them. My political 
views were largely derived from the opinions and 
prejudices of my father, but he was on his death 
bed, and I was absorbed in attention to our prac- 
tice. He was senior partner and I junior, and 

133 



134 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

what little spare time I had from work was spent 
for the most part in his sick room. He died in 
September, 1876, after a lingering illness, and I 
was so distressed and occupied with family and 
business affairs that I do not even remember 
whether I voted. I am inclined to think that if 
my father had survived he would have voted for 
Hayes, for he not only had profound contempt 
for the post-bellum Democracy, but regarded Mr. 
Tilden as one of the trickiest and most unscrupu- 
lous politicians in America, and while his preju- 
dices against the Republican party were strong and 
deep, he declared, when Hayes was nominated, 
that he was an able and a high man. How far he 
would have been swerved from that opinion by the 
things done after the Presidential election of 1876, 
and in the proceedings of the electoral commission, 
we cannot, of course, know. 

It would be foreign to the purpose and the scope 
of these reminiscences to enter upon the details 
of the long and doubtful controversy which suc- 
ceeded that election. I took no part in it and 
felt little interest. It was manifest to me that 
the result would turn upon the success of the 
political jockeying of the party leaders. I had 
seen enough of politics to satisfy me that as the 
two parties were then constituted the balance of 
ability and resourcefulness was on the side of the 
Republicans. To my mind, when the Democrats 
were inveigled into submitting the 'contest to a 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 135 

commission, of which a majority were Republicans, 
they gave up their case. And when it was de- 
veloped that the Democratic State Governments 
in Louisiana and South Carolina were to be 
installed and the electoral votes of those States 
were to be counted for the Republicans, it was 
plain to me that poor old Tilden had been sold out 
and that the price of his slaughter was the Demo- 
cratic control of those two Southern States. 
Maybe I was cynical. Maybe I was wrong in my 
conclusions. Maybe I did the electoral com- 
mission injustice. But it all came out just as I 
thought it would. And the Electoral Commis- 
sion's findings were no surprise to me. My only 
regret about it was that the Supreme Court was 
dragged into the controversy, and its prestige for 
impartiality permanently impaired by entrusting 
to its members business that did not properly 
belong to them; for all men, even Supreme Court 
justices, are but mortals, and, in a supreme 
crisis like that are unable to rise above the in- 
fluence of partisanship, even if they believe they 
can. 

It was little less than a national calamity when 
the m.embers of the Supreme Court, with its 
exalted record and the faith of the people so 
firmly fixed upon it, were placed in a situation 
from which they emerged, with one of their number 
called in ridicule "Aliunde Joe," because of the 
wide-spread opinion that he was a partisan. And 



136 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

the Court has never since filled, as it did before, 
the popular ideal of exalted incorruptibility. 

President Hayes took his seat under the blackest 
cloud that ever hung over a President. He had 
the most trying role to play. He could not have 
done otherwise than he did. To have failed or 
refused to assert his title to the Presidency, by 
every means in his power, would have been a 
wrong to his party and his own annihilation. 
He naturally committed his case to the manage- 
ment of his party leaders. When he won he was 
subjected to a murderous cross-fire. Of course 
his political antagonists denounced him as a 
fraudulent imposter. But that was not the 
worst of it. The men who had made the fight for 
him regarded him as under such obligations to 
them that he was their creature, and every time 
he failed to do what they demanded they were 
disposed to denounce him as an ingrate and to hint, 
through malice, that he really was an imposter. 

No man ever was in a more trying situation. 
It was fashionable in those days to sneer at Hayes 
as a weak accident and hypocrite. But I saw a 
good deal of President Hayes and believe that he 
was an able and upright man, and that history 
will assign him a much higher place than his con- 
temporaries were disposed to admit him entitled to. 

Of course he could not accomplish much, pulled 
and hauled and mauled about in every direction, 
as he was by friend and foe. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 137 

He made a fair effort to conciliate the South. 
His Postmaster General, Judge Keyes of Tennes- 
see, was a Democrat, and he announced a liberal 
poHcy in appointing Southern men to office. I 
do not recall just where I first met President 
Hayes, but think it was in regard to some Govern- 
ment business at the White House. He was one 
of the most patient, courteous and considerate 
public officials with whom I ever came in contact. 
When his policy of appointing Southerners to office 
was announced, a lady friend with claims upon 
me prevailed upon me to visit the President and 
try to secure for her husband, an educated man 
without talent for business, a Government position. 
If I had known as much then as I learned later 
about the way in which Government positions 
are secured, I never would have gone upon any 
such wild-goose chase or consented to bother a 
President about a subordinate appointment. But 
I wanted to help a friend and made the trip. 
It was in the summer time and the President and 
his family were temporarily residing at the 
Soldiers' Home. The telephone was just coming 
into use, and one had been put up between the 
White House and the Soldiers' Home. One of the 
officials to whom I was known inquired if the 
President would see me if I drove out, and the 
reply came at once that if I would call about 
6.30 p. M he would receive me. Upon arriving 
there I was ushered into the sitting room, and in 



138 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

a moment the President came in, smiling and 
holding a napkin in his hand. I had evidently 
interrupted him at dinner. Of course it was 
annoying to me, but he good-naturedly protested 
that it was not my fault; that I had come at the 
hour named by him, and that ordinarily his dinner 
would have been over; but that he had been out 
driving with Mrs. Hayes and they had been unex- 
pectedly detained, so that I found them at dinner. 
He invited me to join the family, and, seeing that 
he would not return to his meal unless I consented 
to accompany him, I yielded. There I met Mrs. 
Hayes and some lady visitor and some of the 
Hayes children, I do not remember which. 

Mrs. Hayes was a beautiful, dear, sweet woman. 
Their meal was simple enough, and their hospitality 
just as gracious as ever I saw. One or the other 
of them said something about having no wine, and 
I turned it off by saying that they would need to 
make no apologies or explanations to me, for I 
came from a section where the people were too 
poor to indulge in such luxuries. 

With all her lovable and excellent traits, Mrs. 
Hayes was more or less of a crank on this subject. 
But we all have our peculiarities about this or 
that. Whenever I see a person so obstinate and so 
pertinacious in trying to make others conform to 
his standard of life I try not to offend his preju- 
dice, and he certainly has no effect upon my 
views or habits. That sort of thing is a species of 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 139 

self-assertive vanity, or prejudice, which more 
thorough social experience would teach one not to 
intrude on others; or is in many cases a form of 
bitterness resulting from the abuse of liquor by 
some loved one. Whenever I see a person of that 
sort my curiosity is at once aroused to know who 
the relative or friend was that was destroyed by 
liquor, and what he or she did to excite this bitter- 
ness. In ninety -nine cases out of a hundred this 
is at the bottom of it. President Hayes admired 
and respected Mrs. Hayes greatly and deferred to 
her demands about liquor, but I do not think he 
was himself in the least fanatical on the subject. 
What impressed me most about him was his 
placidity, and, so far as I could see, the many 
things which had happened and were happening, 
tending to make him morbid or embittered, had 
produced no effect upon him. It was in strange 
contrast with the effect of similar treatment upon 
President Johnson. 

After our simple and delightful repast was over 
the President conducted me to a little veranda, 
and we entered upon a discussion of the business 
of my visit. He was a patient listener, and 
when I had stated the case said he fully appre- 
ciated that it was desirable to make some Southern 
appointments, but in his position there was little 
controlled by him; that nearly all the places were 
claimed by Senators and Congressmen, who not 
only filled all vacancies but had long waiting lists, 



I40 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

and that, under the precedents established, the 
President was almost without patronage, but he 
would see what he could do. He held in his hand 
a little pocket memorandum book and from time 
to time made entries. I felt sure that he intended 
to do what he could, and when I parted with him 
he told me he would see what he could do and I 
would hear from him again. But I never did hear 
from him again. I never blamed him, for a man 
in his position cannot possibly recall such in- 
significant matters. 

The little memorandum book became well 
known to the visitors to President Hayes, and 
the fim-loving reporters made it the subject of 
jests more witty than charitable. It was even 
said that the President filled a book a day and at 
night threw it into a drawer and never recurred 
to it, so that at the end of his term there were 
loads of these unproductive souvenirs. Be that 
as it may, he made everybody feel well and hope- 
ful during the interview. 

President Hayes and his cabinet visited Rich- 
mond during his Presidential term. I then lived 
there and was Captain of the Blues, a volunteer 
company organised in 1793. It was the ''Corps 
d' Elite" of the city, and we were part of the 
military escort that received him. With him 
were Mr. Evarts, Mr. Sherman, Judge Keyes, and 
others of his cabinet, but between my military 
duties and the duties of hospitality I saw little 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 141 

of them. They debarked at Monroe and FrankHn 
streets, and the President spoke from a platform 
erected upon a vacant lot where the handsome 
residence of a Mr. Harris now stands. Then we 
had a parade. The President's son, Webb Hayes, 
accompanied him, and, as he was keen for a day's 
shooting and I was then quite a famous Nimrod, 
the duty of giving him a day's sport was allotted 
to me. It was a pleasant service, but de- 
prived me of all other participation in the gaities 
of the celebration. Webb Hayes, Colonel Crook, 
one of the President's secretaries, and a friend of 
mine made up our party. We sallied forth early 
the following morning and, as I recall it, shot over 
the farms above the city, "Westham," "Tucka- 
hoe," and other places. We had a good day's 
sport. I found both Webb Hayes and Colonel 
Crook were keen sportsmen, fairly good shots, and 
excellent fellows. That day laid the foundation 
of friendships which have lasted ever since. Crook 
is still at the White House, although his once 
tawny beard is now white as the snow, and, 
although I have only seen Hayes once or twice 
since, we have always remembered each other and 
exchanged pleasant messages. 

The last time I saw President Hayes was at the 
Fifth Avenue Hotel, not long before his death. 
He had come here to attend some great national 
celebration, as one of the surviving Presidents. 
Something took me into the dining room, and as 



142 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 

I passed out an old gentleman with wnite beard 
and kindly brown eyes smiled, bowed and pushed 
back his chair. For a moment I did not recognise 
him, but soon saw that it was ex-President Hayes 
and felt flattered at his courteous recognition. 
He had aged very much; his beard which, when I 
first knew him, was a rich mahogany brown, had 
lost all colour; and he had shrunk up, which is to 
my mind a premonition of the end in persons of 
his age. He was unattended; Mrs. Hayes was 
long since dead; his children all married and 
gone; and, being of the past and not of the present 
or future, one may be sure not many New Yorkers 
were paying him attention. Still he was bright 
and kindly and cheery, and did not seem to feel 
that he was being neglected. I sat down and 
had a few minutes' pleasant chat with him, and 
then we parted — forever. 



JAMES A. GARFIELD 



VIII.-JAMES A. GARFIELD 

I NEVER personally met President Garfield but 
once in my life, and that was soon after his in- 
auguration, at the White House, in the morning 
hour, when he was receiving Senators and Mem- 
bers. At that time I was not a Member of Congress 
and do not recall the circumstance which occas- 
ioned the visit. I remember that he received me 
pleasantly, heard whatever I had to say, and spoke 
in an encouraging way. But I did not like him; 
did not like his eye. It was a bright, strong 
eye, but was too light in colour ; it was inclined to 
be what is called a ''gander" eye. Physically he 
was a noble specimen of manhood. He was tall, 
erect, had a fine head carriage, and the dome of 
his forehead was much nobler than it is portrayed 
in any of his portraits. They all make him stouter, 
coarser, less intellectual than he was. Nobody 
upon seeing Garfield could mistake him for an 
ordinary man. Yet from the pictures one sees of 
him one gathers the impression that he was a 
somewhat coarse-featured, fat-faced, full-blooded, 
over-fed man. He was not. He was a well- 
proportioned, handsome man of gallant, intellectual 
appearance, and, barring the "gander" eye, was an 
unusually prepossessing man. 

145" 



146 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

At the time of his inauguration I was becom- 
ing much interested in pohtics. I ran as an 
Independent candidate for Congress in the Rich- 
mond district in 1880 against my cousin, George 
D. Wise, the regular Democratic nominee, and 
was beaten badly. I was rapidly becoming a 
Republican. When Garfield came into power I 
thought the South should give him a generous 
support. I sympathised with him in his contest 
with the New York Senators, and thought Conkling 
and Piatt behaved in a childish and foolish way 
when they resigned from the Senate. I thought 
he made a mistake in selecting Blaine for leader 
of his Cabinet. 

Another thing which I did not like about Gar- 
field was his great social intimacy with certain 
Southern Democratic leaders in Washington, whom 
I knew to be perfectly hypocritical in their pro- 
fessions of friendship. He was a great fellow for 
talking with his arm around one's shoulder and 
calling people by their first names. To see him in 
Congress with the Southern coterie I have men- 
tioned, one would have imagined they had nothing 
on earth that was not in common. And they availed 
themselves of this flattery and cajolery of Garfield 
to make him help them in a number of their pet 
measures. That was all right enough, if they had 
been sincere. But they were not sincere. The 
same men who would thus fawn about Garfield 
and call him "Jim," when they wanted his help 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS i47 

in a Republican house, returned to their Southern 
districts, in instances within my knowledge, and 
in their attacks upon the Republican party would 
include Garfield and accuse him of corruption in 
the "DeGolyer Contracts" and other matters, 
utterly regardless of any obligation of friendship. 
And, when it was all over, back they would go 
to Washington and appear in the lobbies with 
their arms about Garfield's neck, joking and 
making merry with him as if they were his real 
friends, and he seemed to be flattered by it and 
not to have sense enough to see through it or self- 
respect enough to resent such an insult. That 
was at the foundation of my prejudice against 
Garfield. I knew what a hypocritical, vindictive, 
double-faced set these people who were fawning 
upon him and seemed to have his ear were, 
and I could not understand how a man of real 
ability and character and judgment of men could 
be deceived by them. 

LBut Garfield was a singular character in many 
ways. Nobody questioned the man's great abili- 
ties or his eloquence and power to lead men. 
Those things were universally conceded to him. \ 
But if half the stories current about him in Wash- 
ington were true, there was an infinite chasm 
yawning between the real Garfield and the popular 
ideal of the man. I could not corroborate one 
of them, if I should venture to repeat it, and 
therefore will not. 



148 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

His cruel, tragic, wanton assassination aroused 
the greatest sympathy and brought forth every- 
thing of good that could be said about him. 
There let the matter rest. 

Yet there are many people familiar with Gar- 
field and his time who honestly believe that, so far 
as his own reputation for the future is concerned, 
his assassination was a lucky, rather than an 
unlucky, thing for him. 

I remember distinctly the spot where I was 
standing and the person who told me that Garfield 
had been shot. It was in Richmond, comer 
Eleventh and Main streets, in front of the National 
Bank of Virginia, and James Lyons, Jr., was my 
informant. I remember also that I was not sur- 
prised. The controversy between the President 
and the New Yorkers had been so rabid that the 
first idea which occurred to me was that Garfield's 
death might be in some undefined way associated 
with that. It was a relief to learn that the 
horrid thing was only the act of an irresponsible 
lunatic. 

Something again took me to Long Branch 
while Garfield lay wounded at Elberon. Of 
course the President's condition was the^ subject of 
universal solicitude. From the time I learned the 
nature of his wound I never entertained a ray of 
hope that he would recover. Not only from my 
war experience, but from a large and varied 
experience as a sportsman and with many kinds 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 149 

of pets, I had come to the conclusion that no skill 
would overcome the fatal effect of a columnar 
intestinal wound like that. By this time my 
acquaintance with public men was large, and many 
of them were with me at the hotel at Long Branch. 
One evening a party of us were talking when an 
acquaintance, a prominent man, joined our group. 
He looked solemn and depressed. Some one in- 
quired, " Any news from the President? " " Yes," 
he answered, "I have just seen him." He then 
explained that he had visited the President's 
cottage; that as he was an old friend and knew 
the surgeons, and as the President was sleeping 
soundly, they had permitted him to take a look 
at him from some point where he could see 
without disturbing him or, perhaps, even entering 
the room. "Well, what do you think of his con- 
dition?" was the eager inquiry from several. 
He shook his head sadly, and after some reluct- 
ance said, "Well, the surgeons still encourage 
hope, and maybe I know nothing about it. But " 
— and he paused long before proceeding — "with- 
out their reassurance I would look upon him as 
a dead man now. I never saw such a shocking 
change in the appearance of any living man. I 
would never have recognised the President at all. 
Even his skin has a dried, tanned look like that 
of a mummy. Oh, my God, it is awful!" and he 
broke down and wept. 

This conversation made a deep impression upon 



I50 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

me. Before I left for New York the next morning 
another bulletin appeared and, reading between 
the lines with what I had heard, I felt sure the 
surgeons were preparing us for the end. 

I lunched with a friend that day at Delmonico's 
cafe, located at Twenty-sixth Street and Broad- 
way. While we were at luncheon a mutual 
friend dropped in upon us. Learning that I was 
just returned from Long Branch, he inquired 
whether I had any reliable news concerning the 
President's real condition. When I told him 
what I knew he inquired eagerly what my engage- 
ments were for the next hour or two and, learning 
that I would be at leisure, requested me to meet 
him an hour later at the Hoffman House prepared 
to spend an hour in a visit to a friend. At the 
time designated he returned in a cab and we 
were driven to the house on Lexington Avenue 
then occupied by Vice-President Arthur. The 
curtains at the front were down as if the house was 
unoccupied. We were promptly admitted, and the 
servant told us to go up to the second story back 
room. There we found Arthur and several friends, 
among them, if I remember correctly, being 
Colonel Horace B. Fry, the late Clint. Wheeler 
and Steve French. It was a bachelor establish- 
ment, free and easy, with plenty of tobacco smoke 
and decanters, and the Vice-President sat upon 
the side of a bed talking earnestly to one of his 
friends when I entered. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 151 

He greeted me cordially. I knew him even 
before he was Vice-President. Many a night, 
when he held one of the Government offices, he 
had, after the theatre, dropped into Delmonico's 
with "the boys," for a "high ball," and there I 
first met him. He married a Virginian, a Miss 
Hemdon from Fredericksburg, and I knew all his 
Virginia friends and some of his groomsmen, so 
that was the bond of friendship between us. 

Arthur behaved admirably during Garfield's 
illness. He withdrew from his old haunts and 
confined himself to his home. His manner when 
he met me was very quiet and dignified, and 
showed that he understood full well what the 
second official in the Nation should do under 
such circumstances. I told him all I knew, and 
unhesitatingly expressed the opinion that the 
President's death was only a matter of a few 
days at farthest. Our conversation was quite a 
long one, and then I joined the others in the front 
room or library. The Vice-President invited me 
to remain to dinner, but I had another engage- 
ment. 

Within a week I stood with bared head at the 
Pennsylvania depot in Washington and saw the 
bier of Garfield borne from the train, while the 
Marine Band of about one hundred pieces played 
the most impressive dirge I ever heard and 
the air vibrated with the melody of "Safe in the 
Arms of Jesus." 



CHESTER A. ARTHUR 



IX.-CHESTER A. ARTHUR 

My recollections of President Arthur and the 
times of his administration are among the most 
agreeable of my young and vigorous manhood. 
Early in 1882 he appointed me United States 
Attorney for the Eastern District of Virginia, and 
in the autumn of that year I was elected Congress- 
man-at-Large from the State of Virginia, so that I 
resigned my United States Attorneyship and took 
up my duties in Washington March 4, 1883. 
Mrs. Wise accompanied me and we established 
ourselves at the Arlington Hotel. The Democrats 
had an overwhelming majority in the House, 
which gave us Republicans ample time, as we had 
none of the responsibilities of legislation upon 
our shoulders. It was a notable House. John G. 
Carlisle of Kentucky was Speaker, and he was one 
of the best and fairest speakers the House of 
Representatives ever had. Of course the Demo- 
crats were divided among themselves. They are 
always divided among themselves. Sam Randall 
of Pennsylvania, than whom a better fellow never 
lived, led the tariff wing of the Democrats. Morri- 
son of Illinois, representing the low tariff wing 
of the Democracy, undertook to frame a tariff bill. 
Among other Democrats whom I recall with 

155 



156 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

pleasure and kindness were Abram S. Hewitt, 
Mr. Holman of Indiana, Sunset Cox of Ohio and 
New York, R. R. Bland of Missouri, Hatch of the 
same State, Mortimer Elliott of Pennsylvania, 
General Slocimi of New York, Jack Adams of the 
same State, John Lamb of Indiana, Springer of 
Illinois, Hon. Hilary A. Herbert, afterward in Cle- 
veland's Cabinet, Governor Oates and General Joe 
Wheeler, all from Alabama; Clifton Breckinridge 
of Arkansas, afterward Minister to Russia; Joe 
Blackburn of Kentucky, afterward Senator; Gov- 
ernor Curtin of Pennsylvania, Mr. Dockery, since 
Governor of Missouri; William McAdoo, then of 
New Jersey, now Police Commissioner of New 
York; Benton McMillan, afterward Governor of 
Tennessee; Roger Q. Mills, afterward Governor 
and Senator from Texas; John H. Reagan, the 
Confederate ex- Postmaster General; General 
William S. Rosecranz of California; and William 
L. Wilson of West Virginia, afterward prom- 
inent under Cleveland's administration, and 
best known perhaps as author of the Wilson 
tariff bill. 

My Democratic colleagues from my own State 
were Messrs. Garrison, George D. Wise, Cabell, 
Tucker, O'Ferrall and Barbour,' two of whom, 
Garrison and O'Ferrall, were seated after 
contests. 

My seat was contested, but it never gave me 
much concern. The committee, a majority of 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 157 

which was of course Democratic, reported in 
my favour. Sam Randall had been a play- 
mate of my uncles, John and WilUam Sergeant, 
when they grew tjp together in Philadelpliia. 
Nothing pleased him more than to sit up and 
tell me of the thriving business Tie and "Bill" 
Sergeant did raising pigeons in my grandfather's 
stable loft at the old residence in Fourth 
Street, when they were boys. His father, 
Josiah Randall, was a aevoted friend of my 
grandfather Sergeant. When he heard of the 
contest he sent for Mortimer Elliott of Penn- 
sylvania and Jack Adams of New York, members 
of the committee, and told them that whatever 
else happened I was not to be molested. My 
opponent really had no case, and as the Demo- 
crats had about seventy-five majority in the 
House, and did not want any more, I was never 
disturbed. 

On the Republican side were a great many 
men who have since achieved national fame. 
There were Tom Reed of Maine, D. B. Henderson 
of Iowa; and Uncle Joe Cannon of Illinois, all 
of whom have since been Speakers of the House- 
And McKinley, who was, toward the end of the 
term, ousted by Wallace; the present Secretary, 
James Wilson of Iowa ; Judge Goff of West Virginia ; 
John Kean, Jr., now Senator from New Jersey; 
Hepburn of Iowa ; Hiscock, afterward Senator from 
New York; Knute Nelson, still Senator from 



158 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

Minnesota; W. D. Washburn, afterward Senator 
from Minnesota; William Walter Phelps, W. D. 
(Pig-iron) Kelley, McComas, afterward Senator 
from Maryland; Sereno Payne of New York, still 
in Congress; George W. Ray, now U. S. Judge; 
Ex-Governor Rice, A. A. Ranney of Massachusetts, 
and last but not least poor old Belford of Colorado 
and the redoubtable Tom Ochiltree of Texas. 
The Virginia delegation as originally returned 
was six Republicans and four Democrats. There 
were three contests. The Democrats had every- 
thing their own way. They made short shrift of 
poor old Colonel Bob Mayo, the sitting Republican 
member in the first district, and seated the con- 
testant, Garrison. In the seventh district O'Fer- 
rall. Democrat, contested John Paul's seat. But 
before the contest was decided Paul was appointed 
by President Arthur United States District Judge 
for the Western District of Virginia, which vacated 
his seat in Congress, so O'Ferrall rather took it by 
default. He would probably have secured it in 
any event. When the Democrats finished with 
us the delegation stood: 

REPUBLICANS 

Congressman-at-Large, John S. Wise 
2d Dist., Harry Libbey, 
4th Dist., Benjamin S. Hooper, 
9th Dist., Henry Bowen. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 159 

DEMOCRATS ' 

ist Dist., George T. Garrison, 
3rd Dist., George D. Wise, 
5th Dist., George C. Cabell, 
6th Dist., John Randolph Tucker, 
7th Dist., Charles T. O'Ferrall, 
9th Dist., John S. Barbour. 

There was a good deal of bad blood between the 
representatives of the opposing parties in Virginia, 
especially during an investigation into the origin 
and nature of a riot in Danville in which a number 
of negroes were killed, but on the whole party 
feehng did not run very high during Arthur's 
administration. 

[President Arthur was one of the most loyal 
Republicans and at the same time one of the 
"best fellows" I ever knew. He was the soul 
of kindness and hospitality to his political op- 
ponents, but he never permitted them to bam- 
boozle him into doing anything through personal 
kindness which tended to weaken his party. 
The Southern Bourbon representatives were then, 
as they always have been, captivating, compan- 
ionable men, who, under the guise of social bon- 
hommie, try to reach the higher and better element 
of Republicanism in the North, to convince it 
that they are the only real representative or 
trustworthy people in the South, and that there 



i6o RECOLLECTIONS OF 

must be something radically wrong and out of 
gear in any Southern man who can bring himself 
to affiliate with the Republican party there, 
which, as they put it, is synonymous with com- 
bining with negroes to dominate the best people. 
They are liars and hypocrites, and nobody knows 
it better than themselves. But they are indus- 
trious liars and most plausible hypocrites. They 
ply their trade through men and through women. 
The Jesuit priesthood in its palmiest days never 
devised its sophistries more cunningly or dis- 
seminated them more insidiously than does South- 
em Bourbonism this class of appeal for Northern 
Republican sympathy. And it is surprising to 
see what they accomplish by it. 

But the thing I admired most about Arthur 
was that he associated with them, allowed them 
to practise all their wiles upon him, even left them 
believing that they had impressed him, saw 
through and through them, and was not in the 
least affected by their pharisaical talk, but went 
right on trying to build up a respectable and real 
Republican party in the South. 

He was peculiarly adapted to deal with that 
phase of politics. He had married in tlie South, 
■ and had been thrown a great deal with the old 
Southern aristocracy. In a social way he liked 
them, and was glad to be kind and hospitable to 
them, but he had seen enough of them to know 
that it was just as impossible to make a Republican 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS i6i 

out of the average Southern Bourbon Democrat as 
it is for the leopard to change his spots. 

He understood them a great deal better than 
they did him. He was a great deal more a man 
of the world than any of them. He had moved 
in the highest social and in the lowest political 
circles of the great cosmopolitan, social, political 
and business centre of this country. 
[_Arthur had a hold upon the machine in his home 
that had sprung from his having gone in and 
worked with the "rounders."} But he had done 
this with the same good sense and search for prac- 
tical knowledge which prompts a refined and 
wealthy youth who aspires to become ultimately 
a railroad president to put on a pair of overalls 
and work in the shops at the most subordinate 
tasks. On the other hand, in all his social, 
professional and political relations he had access 
to and was part of the highest plane of society, 
and had learned that it was not necessary to bully, 
antagonise or alienate opponents; that a really 
strong and diplomatic politician might listen, 
conciliate, be courteous, and even not contradict 
an opponent, without weakening in the least his 
own convictions or purposes. 

The dogmatism and provincial inexperience of 
Bourbonism did not comprehend the patience and 
suavity of Arthur. They often thought that 
they had made their impression upon him, and 
he took no pains to disabuse them. But when the 



1 62 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

time came he always showed them plainly that he 
was not in accord with their ideas, and they 
could find nothing in anything he said to them 
on which to hang a pretense that he had excited 
false hopes. 

Arthur was a gentleman himself, and he did not 
believe it was possible to build up a Republican 
party in the South which would have a permanent 
hold there unless he found a better and more 
representative domestic leadership than it had 
enjoyed in the past. Nor did he believe he would 
accomplish much by giving offices to Southern 
Democrats. His whole simple idea therefore was 
to find in the South, if he could, respectable 
Southerners who were Republicans and to com- 
mit the party into their hands, to build it up there 
as a native and domestic and reputable representa- 
tive of a divided sentiment, and to take it, if 
need be, out of the hands of men so unidentified 
with the locality or so personally odious that they 
drove people out of the party. Speaking to me 
on one occasion of a class of scalawags, who repre- 
sent nothing but have been steadily given the 
offices there since their supposed "loyalty" in 
war times, he said, " They are mere birds of prey. 
As well expect the song birds to come and roost 
on the trees with the hawks that have harried 
them as to think the Southern people will join a 
party under their leadership. It would be better to 
pension them on condition that they come North 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 163 

than leave them there to repel a following, no 
matter how good the principles they advocate. 
We must hunt for Republican leaders in the 
South, for the future, somewhere else than among 
the scalawags or the Bourbons. There must be 
other kinds of people there, and when I find them 
I want them." 

One day I went to the White House and was 
ushered into the President's dining room, where 
I found him surrounded by a jolly crowd of 
Senators and Congressmen, mostly Democratic. 
/Arthur was a high liver. He was not by any 
means a drunkard, but he was a typical New 
York man-about- town, and showed it in his fat 
and ruddiness. He ate and drank too much, and 
died young from the effects of over-indulgence. 
He loved good company, and his high-ball, and 
his glass of champagne, and his late supper with 
a large cold bottle and a small hot bird. He 
enjoyed bright stories, though he was not much 
of a hand at telling them, i 

On the occasion ref^red to, finding myself in 
such a company of political opponents, I could 
not help feeling that I might be de trop, for it was 
not everywhere that Democrats and Republicans 
herded together in those days indiscriminately. 
But he soon put me at my ease. After a little 
while the party was broken up and he gave me 
the wink to remain. On our way to his office he 
said: "What a pleasant lot of fellows they are. 



i64 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

What a pity they have so Httle sense about 
pohtics. If they Hved North the last one of them 
would be Republicans. But they cannot stop 
thinking or talking about negroes long enough 
to think or talk about anything else." 

One of the pleasantest and most amusing 
dinners I ever attended at the White House was 
given by President Arthur. His sister, Mrs. 
McElroy, did the honours, and Mrs. Wise received 
with her. The President escorted Mrs. Wise to 
dinner. I was escort of his niece, Miss May 
McElroy. We were consequently quite near the 
President. The McElroys had but recently re- 
turned from a long visit to Europe, and gave us 
very bright accounts of their experiences in Nor- 
way and Sweden. Ours was a jolly company, and 
the dinner all that one could wish a Presidential 
banquet to be. A thing occurred which has so 
often been the subject of jest that I almost fear to 
tell it. One would hardly think it possible, but it 
is literally true. 

Two rural Congressmen sat near enough for 
us to see them attempt to spear some small 
Spanish olives with their forks, and so vigorous 
was the onslaught made b}^ one of them that the 
olive sprung out of the dish and landed in the shirt 
bosom of a guest opposite. We all saw the contre- 
temps, and so amusing was it that we would have 
exploded with laughter had not the President 
warned us by his manner and turned off the 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 165 

matter adroitly. Arthur was a very prince of 
hospitality, and nothing could betray him into 
discourtesy. 

All through my Congressional career Arthur 
had been so kind to me and so considerate that I 
was naturally anxious for him to receive the 
nomination in 1884. For some reason I did not 
go to the National Convention. I thought the 
nomination of Blaine was unwise. Personally 
Mr. Blaine and I were good friends. He was a 
brilliant, captivating man and had flattered me in 
many ways. Among other things he sent me, 
with an autograph inscription, a copy, bound in 
turkey morocco, of his "Twenty Years of Con- 
gress." But the trouble with Blaine was that 
those who hated him hated him with a violence 
such as I have seldom seen any man excite. 
Thousands admired him and called him the 
" Plumed Knight " and loaded him with all 
kinds of flattery, but, on the other hand, hundreds 
seem to despise him and no base name was too 
bad for him, and no party loyalty seemed to 
restrain them. 

Now, Arthur was a safe man, and, if he had done 
nothing particularly brilliant, he certainly had not 
aroused any such political beehive - of stinging 
hate as Blaine seemed to stir up. The Democrats 
had done nothing to make them particularly 
strong, and the Republicans had done nothing to 
make them particularly weak. So I believed that 



1 66 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

we ought to leave good enough alone and nominate 
Arthur. And I still believe that if we had nomi- 
nated Arthur he would not only have carried 
New York but would have been elected. 

The National Republican Convention which 
was to decide whether Arthur or Blaine should 
lead the Republican forces excited a great deal 
of interest. The struggle was protracted, but 
Blaine won. Three men attacked Blaine in a way 
sufficiently violent to attract the attention of the 
whole country. One of them was an old politician 
and something of a chronic kicker, George William 
Curtis; the other two were youngsters, political 
colts, so to speak; they were Theodore Roosevelt 
of New York and Henry Cabot Lodge of Massa- 
chusetts. If notoriety was what these gentlemen 
were seeking, they attained their object. By the 
time Curtis and Roosevelt and Lodge had given 
their reasons for opposing Blaine, not only did the 
whole country know of them, but the opposition 
was in full possession of all the material it needed 
to get up that frightful campaign caricature of 
Blaine called "the tattooed man," which did as 
much to beat him as anything else. 

When Blaine triumphed in the convention public 
curiosity at once became aroused tq know the atti- 
tude which the trio of his assailants in the Con- 
vention would assume towards him. Curtis came 
out against him and soon disappeared from politics. 
Roosevelt and Lodge fell into line and supported 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 167 

Blaine, with the ultimate result that one is Presi- 
dent and the other Senator from Massachusetts. 
2 The blow of losing the Presidential nomination 
was a severe one to Arthur. He was a proud, 
sensitive man. He felt that his party had treated 
him badly and ignored his faithful services when 
it supplanted him with Blaine. But Arthur was 
a strict and loyal party man. He did every- 
thing in his power to carry New York for Blaine 
and was in no way to blame for the failure. If 
anybody was to blame it was Blaine himself. 

Still there were not lacking those who were ready 
to attribute the loss of New York to Arthur, and 
knowing his sensitive and punctilious nature, I 
believe these unjust imputations, added to his dis- 
appointment at not receiving the nomination, did 
much to hasten President Arthur's death. 

Now and then one hears people discussing 
which of the Presidents have been gentlemen. 
The word has a legal signification in England, 
which makes it easy to determine who is and who 
is not a gentleman. In America whether a par- 
ticular person is or is not a gentleman is largely 
dependent upon the notions of each person concern- 
ing what constitutes a gentleman. But I have yet 
to hear anybody familiar with the personal attri- 
butes of our Presidents, and trying to classify them 
socially, who did not declare that Chester A. 
Arthur was a "gentleman," whatever that term 
may mean in America. 



GROVER CLEVELAND 



X.-GROVER CLEVELAND 

If I treated of the Presidents in the order of 

my acquaintance with them, I should write of 

President Harrison before President Cleveland, 

for I never met Mr. Cleveland until after the 

expiration of his first term. My service in Congress 

ended when his, as President, first began, and I 

left the capital the same day. Blaine's defeat 

was a great disappointment to me, and I presume 

I was as narrow and as bitter as the average 

politician and took myself off home to rub my 

sore spots. During the first year of Mr. Cleveland's 

Administration, I was Republican candidate for 

Governor of Virginia, and of course the whole 

power of the Administration was brought to bear 

against me. It was during this campaign that I 

first held political communication with young 

Roosevelt. Foraker was running in Ohio, and 

our two campaigns excited considerable interest. 

One day I received a kind note, in mourning, 

written from Centre Moriches, signed Theodore 

Roosevelt, expressing interest in my campaign 

and the hope that I might be elected. The 

mourning was for the first Mrs. Roosevelt, and 

the writer was only about twenty-nine years of 

age. I was defeated by the returns for governor, 

171 



172 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

and removed to New York in the Autiimn of il 
retaining my Virginia residence long enough to vote 
for President Harrison. Mr. Cleveland also came to 
New York after the expiration of his first term, 
and it was here I met him first at some public 
function. I remember his saying: "Why I knew 
all the other Wises, George," etc., etc., calling 
their names. " How is it I never met you before? " 
To which I laughingly replied: "Mr. President, I 
did not have anything you wanted and you did 
not have anything I could get, so I kept away 
from you." " Oh! " said he good-naturedly, " you 
are the bad one, are you? I know you now." 
I liked Mr. Cleveland from the first and he has 
proved in many ways that he reciprocates the 
feeling. Although I never voted for him, I have 
a great respect and regard for him, and believe 
that he made a good President. I do not mean 
by that to endorse his political views, but I 
regard him as a sound, conservative statesman, 
whose chief fault, in the eyes of his followers, was 
that he was better than his party. 

But I do not intend to discuss his politics. 
My purpose is simply to portray the man as I 
have known him, and to convey some idea of the 
man himself. The first time I was ever thrown 
with him more or less intimately was at a famous 
dinner given at the Astor House by the late John 
Russell Young to a number of his friends. Mr. 
Young was a lovable man and had warm friends 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 173 

in all parties. The group of people he assembled 
on the occasion now described was quite remarka- 
ble. I remember that General Sherman, Mr. Cleve- 
land, Chauncey Depew, Mr. John W. Mackay, 
Tom Ochiltree, and many others whose names are 
now forgotten, were present. They were all people 
who, at one time or another in their public careers, 
had felt the generous friendship of Young and 
had become attached to him. It was a regular love- 
feast, and we all had a good time. Our common 
love of field sports brought Mr. Cleveland and 
myself together as we had never been before, 
and we promised each other that some day when 
we could both find time we would go shooting 
together. After that, whenever we met we were 
good friends, and once or twice I tried to induce 
the ex-President to go on shooting trips with me, 
but something always prevented our going. Finally 
the Presidential election of 1888 came around, and 
Cleveland turned the tables upon President 
Harrison and defeated him. I supported Harrison 
loyally and ardently, but with a feeling of much 
greater respect and regard for Mr. Cleveland than 
I had evinced in prior campaigns; for, differ as 
one may from him, no man who knows him 
can fail to realise that there is a great deal of 
rugged simplicity and real manhood in Grover 
Cleveland. 

Now it so happened that when I lived in Virginia 
I formed a warm attachment for a deaf-mute. 



174 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

He was a remarkable character in this, that not- 
withstanding his infirmity, he was an ardent 
sportsman and a wonderful handler of dogs. He 
was bright and pertinacious. He broke dogs 
with a whistle and by signs; and, unable to yell 
at them and confuse them, as so many dog- 
breakers do, his pupils were singularly well-broken. 
He and I were sworn friends, and I gave him a 
good many dogs to break. When we first met 
I wore a tall silk hat, from which he began to refer 
to me in all his sign language as " Stove-pipe," by 
which name he continued to call me until he died, 
only shortening the designation to "S.-p.," as 
mutes are wont to do. He taught me the sign 
language, and he also wrote a remarkable hand 
very rapidly. He was a man of unusual intelligence, 
interested in literature and politics. I do not think 
he had very definite political views, but it was 
sufficient for him to know that his friend " S.-p. " 
was a Republican to make him one also. The poor 
fellow, in answer to my praise of his excellent in- 
formation, had always but one reply. He would 
shrug his shoulders and write: "What good does 
it do me? I cannot apply my knowledge. There 
is nothing for a deaf-mute to do. " After Harrison's 
election I aided in having him made postmaster 
at the little town where he lived. It was a verita- 
ble godsend to him. It was the place above 
all others in the world for which he was peculiarly 
fitted. He knew every patron of the office, was 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 175 

methodical, sober, domestic, always at his place, 
and wrote an excellent hand. Accustomed to 
study all written or printed matter submitted to 
him, no instruction or requirement of the Depart- 
ment escaped him, and they told me at the Post- 
office Department in Washington that his office 
was really a model in respect to reports, details 
and the observance of requirements. He was the 
proudest creature I ever saw. Obtaining that 
little office and finding that his work in it was so 
satisfactory to his employers gave him a new hope 
in life, and made him no longer feel that there was 
no sphere of usefulness for him by reason of his 
infirmity. His letters to me were voltiminous, 
and filled with gratitude and renewed hope. 

Well, when Cleveland came back into power, 
the Virginia Democratic Congressmen gave notice 
that "to the victors belong the spoils." Poor 
old Turner (that was his name) wrote me doleful 
letters, telling me the Democrats had their eye 
on his place and intended to turn him out, not 
only because he was a Republican but because 
I put him there. He took it philosophically, but 
showed that he felt no hope. I tried to cheer him 
up, but really did not know on what ground I 
could encourage him. One cold evening in the 
winter of 1892-93, after the Presidential election 
but before Mr. Cleveland's inauguration, I found 
myself standing at the Rector Street station by 
the side of Mr. Cleveland. It was snowing and we 



176 RECOLLECTIONS OP 

were waiting for a train on the elevated road to 
take us to our homes. I had that very day had 
a mournful letter from Turner. "Ah! Mr. Presi- 
dent," said I cheerily, "this is an unexpected 
pleasure! Unless you are so proud of your 
victory that you will not speak to Republicans." 
"Hello, Wise," said he in the most democratic 
fashion. "Oh, no, I'm not so proud. I think 
you may be regarded as no longer dangerous." 
The train came up and we took seats side by side. 
I said something pleasant of a personal nature, and 
we soon began to talk about shooting. He re- 
marked that it was a fine day for brant shooting. 
" Mr. President," said I, " if any one had told me I 
would be holding up my plate for soup to you 
some day I think I would have resented it, but 
here I am among the earliest wanting a favour." 
I then told him about the deaf-mute who was 
such a fine dog-trainer. That interested him, 
particularly the way the man used his whistle and 
made signs with his hands. I then told him the 
story of his appointment and the pride he felt in 
his post-office, as told above. He listened atten- 
tively and finally said: "Of course he ought not 
to be turned out. If it was you, of course you'd 
have to go. But robbing a poor dfevil like that 
of the only thing he is fit for would not be politics 
but petty meanness. I cannot remember things 
like this, but when I name my Postmaster General 
you see him, and if he doesn't help you I will." 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 177 

So Mr. Cleveland and I parted at his station better 
friends than ever. 

Soon after his inauguration and the announce- 
ment of his cabinet, I, being in Washington on 
other business, called upon Mr. Bissell, Postmaster 
General, and began to tell him of the case of 
J. Marshall Turner, postmaster at Walkerton, Va., 
and of my desire to have him retained. He in- 
terrupted me with the query, " Didn't you say 
something about this to the President?" "Yes, I 
did," I replied. " But it was a long time ago and 
I had no idea he remembered it." "Well, I do 
not think he remembered the details, but he told 
me that if Wise came to see me I must help him. 
And this is the case, is it?" said he laughing, and 
adding, "You and Mr. Cleveland and the dog- 
breaker. Go and see Maxwell, Fourth Assistant. 
He'll help you." So I hied myself to Maxwell, a 
New Yorker and good fellow. "I'll help you," said 
he. "I'll lose the papers, and it will be a long 
time, I promise you, before anybody finds them." 
Thanking him, and feeling sure from my knowl- 
edge of how such things are done that it would be 
a long time before they turned Turner out, I wrote 
him to be of good cheer. When I bade him hope 
he thought I was a magician. Fully twelve months 
went by and I heard no more of Turner, by 
which I knew that he was still in office. One day, 
as I was preparing to go to Washington on other 
business, I received a telegraphic wail: "I am 



178 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

turned out. See Richmond paper." In half an 
hour a Democratic paper pubHshed in Richmond 
was placed in my hands. It had a flaming an- 
nouncement : 

BOUNCED AT LAST! WISE'S MAN MUST GO! 



CONGRESSMAN JONES TRIUMPHS AFTER A HARD 
FIGHT 

Then the paper proceeded to narrate what a 
valiant and protracted battle Congressman Jones 
had made to obtain this office for a worthy- 
Democrat, against my wily tricks to keep Turner 
in, and how, at last, I had been vanquished and 
a new man, whose name I have forgotten, had 
been appointed. I laughed heartily, for I am sure 
I had not heard a word about Turner or his post- 
office for a twelvemonth. But there had been 
battles royal in Washington. 

The next day, when I finished the business which 
took me to the capital, I called at the Post-office 
Department, and first sought out Mr. Maxwell. 
He met me with a broad grin, and said: "Well, 
old fellow, I did the best I could. I held the 
papers until a peremptory demand that I should 
find them came from the Postmaster General." 
"Thank you, thank you," said I. "I know you 
did your best. Now tell me, what is the matter 
with the Postmaster General ? " " Why, man alive, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 179 

that Congressman down there has made his life a 
burden," said he, giving me some details of Mr. 
Jones's importunities. "You see the Postmaster 
General," said he, "he'll tell you all about it." 
"One word more," said I, "and I'll go. Has the 
bond of the new postmaster been approved?" 
"No." " Has his commission been signed ? " "No." 
"Will you hold them until you hear from me?" 
"Yes, if you let me hear to-day." "Good," said 
I, and went to the Postmaster General. Mr. 
Bissell was a large and not a very suave man, 
and when I entered his office showed that he was 
not glad to see me. His first greeting was, " Well, 
sir, I know what you have come to see me about, 
and I want to say to you that I think you have 
been shown all the consideration which a Repub- 
lican is entitled to from a Democratic Administra- 
tion. In the effort to protect your man, I have 
submitted to more abuse and insult from Congress- 
man Jones than I have received from anybody since 
I entered upon the duties of this office. He has 
gone so far that I ought to have ordered him out 
of the office. But, finally, thinking I may have 
treated him badly, I concluded to give it up and 
appoint his man, and I can do no more for you. 
It is not worth while for you to protest." I saw 
his temper, and felt sorry for the way he had been 
annoyed. "Mr. Postmaster General," said I 
gently, "you misapprehend me. I am not here to 
chide you or to protest. I am here to thank you 



i8o RECOLLECTIONS OF 

for all you have done, and to express my regret 
that I have caused you so much annoyance 
and raised such a storm around you." It was 
the soft answer that turns away wrath. Seeing 
that he was mollified, I added gently, " Have you 
approved the new man's bond? " " No." " Have 
you signed his commission? " " No." " When will 
those things be done in the ordinary course of 
business, Mr. Postmaster General?" I ventured 
this last inquiry in the most seductive way. 
"Why, as soon as they go through the regular 
routine. In a day or so, I presume," he answered 
gruffly. "Well now, Mr. Postmaster General, I 
know how good you have been to me. Is it 
stretching your kindness too far to ask you to 
hold up these signatures for twenty-four hours, so 
as to enable me to see the President?" " See the 
President!" he exclaimed. "You don't think the 
President will mix up in a matter of this size do 
you?" "Hardly," said I; "but then he might. 
Will you not wait for me?" He mused a minute 
and then, whirling his revolving chair about, said: 
"All right! I'll wait a day. And after the way 
that Congressman treated me, I don't care what 
the President does." I tipped the wink to Maxwell 
as I went out of the Department, and hurried, in 
a cab, to the White House. 

I found the President surrounded by Democratic 
magnates. One of his feet was in a great cloth 
shoe, for he was recovering from an attack of 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS i8i 

gout. He greeted me cordially, pointed to a 
large sofa near a window, and bade me sit down 
and read the paper until he was through with his 
visitors. It was a beautiful spring morning and 
the sunlight lit up Arlington, and the monument, 
and the Potomac. Out on the lawns the great 
red-breasted robins were hopping about, bobbing 
for worms. It was an ideal day for shooting — 
snipe shooting at Jamestown. It seemed an in- 
terminable time before the last of his visitors with- 
drew, and then he limped over to me with his 
lower lip pouted out and curled, as is his wont 
when in a good humor. " Sorry I kept you so 
long, ' ' said he, taking a seat beside me. I answered 
back, " Oh, get through with your janissaries, and 
prebendaries and stipendiaries, Mr. President, and 
come with me." He chuckled and repeated to 
himself, " Janissaries, and prebendaries and stipen- 
diaries," and then said, "Well, what is it?" 
" Snipe! " said I. " Come on; I have a private car 
all ready, loaded with black-tailed deer, and 
woodcock, champagne, and ever3^thing. We'll 
slip out of here quietly and go to Williamsburg, 
drive thence to Jamestown Island and have a bully 
time. Look out of the window, Mr. President- 
Look at the haze. It actually smells like snipe." 
May the Lord forgive me for that Munchausen 
story about the private car. I had nothing of the 
kind. But if the President had consented the car 
would have been there, for dear old Frank Thorn- 



1 82 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

son, President of the Pennsylvania Railroad, loved 
hunting as well as we did. He and I had been out 
several times, and a telegram would have brought 
him whirling into Washington with car and all. 
The yearning look given by Cleveland at my 
bidding was almost pitiful. With a deep sigh he 
said, "Gads, I wish I could. No, can't go. No 
use. And even if I could, I've promised another 
man." Seeing that there was no chance of his 
going, and having him in a good humor, I settled 
down to business. " Mr. President," said I, " they 
are trying to kill my little ewe lamb." "What's 
your little ewe lamb?" he blurted out with a per- 
plexed look. Then I told him of the row at the 
Post-office Department. As I proceeded I saw a 
negative cloud settling on his face. Finally, when 
I grew eloquent and said " Turning 'that poor devil 
out is like striking a woman," he interrupted me, 
saying, " Look here. Wise, do you think I was put 
here to settle rows over fourth-class postmasters ? 
What can I do?" I knew how stubborn old 
Grover is when combed the wrong way, and I 
thought my case was lost. " Now, Mr. President," 
said I, " you ask ' What can I do ? ' You can, if you 
will, do the nicest little thing you ever did in your 
life, and it will not be very troublesome. Just 
write on a card : ' Postmaster General : Take no 
further action concerning Waikerton post-office 
until you hear from me.' Sign this and give it to 
me and I'll forgive you for going back on me about 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS i8 



^ 



that snipe hunt." He set his head sideways and 
!iis face rippled into a smile. He said: " No. You 
leave the address and I'll write the letter. I must 
go now. ' ' I thanked him and was withdrawing when, 
he called me back. " Say, for fear the letter may 
not reach there in time, you'd better drive by the 
Department and tell Bissell it's coming. ' ' Nobody 
ever did a kindness more graciously than Mr. 
Cleveland. Certain of the result, I returned to 
New York after calling at Mr. Bissell's office as 
directed by the President. When I told Mr. 
Bissell, he said: " Glad of it. Now Jones and the 
President can fight it out. But, Mr. Wise," 
added the Postmaster General, " the charge is that 
your man is an 'offensive partisan,' and that he 
talks politics." Stealing close to him I said im- 
pressively, in a low voice: "Whatever other charge 
I may be unable to disprove, I can knock that 
charge into a cocked hat. My man is deaf and 
dmnb.'" I never afterward met Secretary Bissell 
that he did not ask me if my man was still talk- 
ing politics. When I reached home I wrote Turner 
that he was all right provided he did not talk 
politics. Turner died in office long after McKin- 
ley's election, and I told him to hang Grover 
Cleveland and Harrison's pictures side by side. 
He always had nicknames for his favourites. His 
name for Mr. Cleveland was " Old Durham." He 
said he looked like John B. Davis's (a neighbour 
of his) Durham bull, which he admired greatly. 



i84 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

In time the President's abbreviated name in all 
our correspondence became "O. D.," just as mine 
was " S.-p." Another year passed by and I heard 
no more of Turner and his office. 

One day, on the cars, Hohnes Conrad, a Demo- 
crat, met me. He was an office-holder under 
Cleveland in Washington. "Look here," said he, 
"what sort of a pull is this you have with the 
'old man'?" "Pull? Old man?" said I, for I 
was not thinking of the subject. "What pull? 
What old man?" "Why, Mr. Cleveland, of 
course," said he. "That's what we call him." 
"I have not seen Mr. Cleveland for six months," 
said I. " What are you talking about ? " " Harry 
Tucker told me all I know," replied Conrad 
laughing. " He says you whipped out the whole 
Virginia delegation." Curious to hear more, I 
probed him, and he told me the following : " Harry 
Tucker says that some months ago Billy Jones 
called upon him and the other Virginia members 
to go up with him to the White House in a body 
to see the President about a post-office concerning 
which he considered himself badly treated. So 
on a certain morning they assembled and demon- 
strated in force. They were all there and Jones 
was to be spokesman. Old Grover seemed to be 
in a very good humor. 'Well, gentlemen, what 
can I do for you,' said he smiling. * Mr. President,* 
began Jones, 'we have come to see you about a 
matter in which I think I have been badly treated. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 185 

It is concerning the post-office at Walkerton.' As 
he tittered the word Walkerton the President's 
whole manner changed. He looked at Jones and 
said sharply: 'What's the name of the post- 
master?' 'Turner,' was the reply. 'Is he deaf 
and dumb ? ' inquired the President. * Yes.' ' And 
you want to turn him out?' Said he, 'Yes.' 
'Well that ends it! I won't do it. There are 
2,000 post-offices in Virginia. You may have 
1,999 of them. This one is mine. D - n Walker- 
ton. That man is deaf and dumb. And he 
breaks John Wise's dogs. Turning him out would 
be as mean as striking a woman. I will not do it. 
Good-day, gentlemen.' And he turned on his 
heel and walked away, leaving them utterly 
dumbfounded." 

It was the first I had heard of it. It probably 
explains in some degree why Congressman Jones 
became an enemy of Cleveland, and how he became 
such an ardent silverite and advocate of Bryan. 

One night, years afterward, I told the story in a 
party at which Mr. Cleveland was present, and he 
laughed his jolly, shaking laugh, commenting at 
its conclusion: " Those fellows made as big a row 
over that little post-office as if it had been First 
Auditor of the Treasury." 

Since the retirement of Cleveland from office, 
I have seen much more of him than ever before, 
and I have always found him a congenial com- 
panion and kind friend. In order to appreciate 



1 86 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

him one must have been with him as I have. On 
two occasions he has honored me by visits to 
my shooting and fishing place in Virginia. First 
of all he is a thorough sportsman. I have seen 
his patience tried both as fisherman and gunner, 
and in this quality he is perfect. He has had 
as good wild-fowl shooting as any man in the 
United States, yet I have known him to sit 
on a calm, sunshiny day, in a duck-blind for ten 
consecutive hours, with nothing but a simple 
luncheon to break his 'fast and nothing but 
whistlers and buffle-heads coming in to his decoys, 
and return home at night with nothing but a dozen 
" trash " ducks, as the gunners call them, as content 
and uncomplaining as if he had enjoyed real sport. 
Then, on a fishing excursion, I have seen him 
when the boat went aground; when the bait gave 
out; when the oil in the steam-launch became 
exhausted and we were delayed several hours; 
when we were caught in a summer squall; in all 
sorts of trying and worrying predicaments; and 
no man in the party took his " streak of lean along 
with his streak of fat" more stoically or more 
complacently than Mr. Cleveland. On one of our 
excursions a dear little fellow from the neighbour- 
hood was of the party. He had good dogs, and 
had joined us to aid in giving the ex-President 
good sport. He was the very opposite of Mr. 
Cleveland in physique. The two conceived a great 
fancy for each other, and as Mr. Cleveland was 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 187 

particularly anxious to do some quail shooting they 
sallied forth together, presenting a most amusing 
contrast as the big ex-President walked along with 
a companion at his side looking like his little boy. 
But the birds had been badly shot off, and the ex- 
President was not a first-class pedestrian, so I 
think they had but indifferent sport. To my sur- 
prise, I found that Mr. Cleveland ate very moder- 
ately and vs^as even abstemious in the use of liquors. 
In the latter respect he has been grossly misrepre- 
sented. He shone best in the evening gatherings, 
when the cigars were lit and merry conversation 
went round. He is one of those men who loves 
companionship, and seems to inspire good fellow- 
ship without at any time taking an active part in 
the conversation himself. > What he most enjoyed 
was a game of cribbage with his devoted friend, 
Commodore Benedict, while the others of us kept 
up a running fire of anecdote and reminiscence. 
He seems to possess the faculty of paying attention 
to his game and at the same time enjoying to the 
full the conversation about him. I think I never 
saw any man who delighted as he does in negro 
dialect stories, and I had one story about the burial 
of Corporal Billy Gilliam which the President has 
made me repeat to him I think a dozen times. I 
can see him now, in fancy, with his eyes shut until 
they were like mere slits in his face, his ex- 
pressive mouth puckered in laugh-provoking merri- 
ment and his body shaking all over, as I told him 



i88 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

about the band burying Billy to the tune of 
" Hop Light, Ladies." There is, too, a serious and 
most attractive side to the ex- President, which I 
will venture to mention. In our strolls about the 
beautiful Cape, we sometimes talked of the difficul- 
ties of the Presidential office. I recall one evening 
when we were out walking alone. He was inter- 
ested in some of the farm work, and we had been 
to inspect it. The sun had set across the noble 
Chesapeake, which lies to westward, and we 
strolled along in the brilliant afterglow. He 
enjoyed the sight of the water and the great pines 
and the light of the gloaming. Suddenly he said : 
" Do you know that I ought to have a monument 
over me when I die?" "I am sure of that, Mr. 
President," I answered, "but for what particular 
service?" "Oh! Not for anything I have ever 
done," said he, "but for the foolishness I have put 
a stop to. If you knew the absurd things proposed 
to me at various times while I have been in public 
life, and which I sat down — and sat down hard — 
upon, you would say so too!" I knew full well 
that what he said was true, and, although I need 
not enter into any details, this country does owe 
Mr. Cleveland an everlasting debt of gratitude for 
having driven what President Harrison described 
as a " wild team " safely to the end of his journey. 
I observed in Mr. Cleveland an inexpressible 
tenderness for his family. He frequently talked 
in the sweetest way of his wife and his children. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 189 

The political world has never dealt kindly with 
Mr. Cleveland. The press has seemed at times to 
delight in circulating rumovirs and aspersions about 
his family relations. No doubt at times Mr. 
Cleveland has been brusque and peremptory — rude, 
if you like the term better — with certain people, 
but that gave them no excuse for lying about him, 
invading the sanctity of his domestic life, and 
circulating false stories about his wife and children. 
Perhaps it was done with devilish malignity to 
wound him in a point where they knew he was 
vulnerable. For, much as the public has been 
encouraged to look upon Mr. Cleveland as inca- 
pable of the finer sensibilities, I never saw a man 
who had family pride and affection more fully 
developed, or who felt more keenly the injustice of 
such assaults. This sort of attack, mean and low 
as it is, brings malice its satisfaction, and the 
public little knows the torture which it inflicts upon 
public men. Few men are exempt from its virus. 
Perhaps no two men of our day were generally sup- 
posed to be more impervious to the sting of 
slander than General Benjamin F. Butler and 
Colonel Robert G. IngersoU. I knew them both 
well, and I can truly say that I believe they were 
about as thin-skinned and sensitive to criticism 
as any two men I ever saw, and that it made them 
as wretched as any two men I ever knew. I have 
not mentioned them in connection with Mr. 
Cleveland because there was any sort of similarity 



I go RECOLLECTIONS OF 

between them and him, but to emphasize the point 
that this sort of traduction is a powerful instrument 
of torture to men in public life, and that it is a 
great mistake to imagine that its falsehood, or their 
vanity or insensibility or even consciousness of 
right, much lessens the sting of its injustice. 

I had an opportunity of seeing how it had em- 
bittered Mr. Cleveland. On one occasion, soon 
after President McKinley's death, we were dis- 
cussing it, and all agreed that it was a sad, 
sad thing to see a man so happy and with so 
much to live for, and so beloved, cut down in the 
bloom of his life and strength. Mr. Cleveland took 
part in the conversation. "I don't know," said 
he ''whether, after all, McKinley's life, sad as was 
its ending, was not, taking into consideration 
everything, to be envied. It is true he was struck 
down by an assassin. But he never was 'assas- 
sinated' in his lifetime. Think of the kindness 
with which he and his wife were always treated 
while he lived. There was nothing lovable and 
kind that could be uttered about him or her 
which was not said at all times. Somehow he 
seemed to possess the faculty of evoking charitable 
judgment and kind treatment. If I could have 
had that sort of thing as long and as uniformly 
as he did, I believe I would have been willing 
to pay the price he has paid. I do not understand 
how some men have the milk of human kindness 
always offered to their lips, while others, without 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 191 

deserving less charitable treatment, have the cup 
of gall and wormwood thrust upon them constantly. 
Bodily death is by no means the worst tor- 
ture which a man can suffer. The torture of 
lies and misrepresentations affecting what is 
dearest to us in life is infinitely worse than the 
mere physical pain of dying." I do not pretend 
that these were his exact words, but they give the 
substance of his speech, and when I heard that cry 
of a strong man in his agony I wished that every 
kindly heart in this broad land could have heard 
it. It would have been a final refutation of the 
dirty and disreputable falsehoods which small 
malice has industriously whispered against him 
and his loved ones at times, even in the remotest 
comers of the land he has served so well. But 
thank God such calumnies have never undermined 
the faith of the people in the manhood, the in- 
tegrity, the honesty of Cleveland. With the 
single exception perhaps of his young successor, 
Roosevelt, he has a stronger hold upon the masses 
than any man in all America, and the importance 
he gave to the slanders referred to sprang, perhaps, 
in great degree from over-sensitiveness. 



BENJAMIN HARRISON 



\ 



XI.— BENJAMIN HARRISON 

I KNEW General Harrison for some years before 
he was elected to the Presidency. 

He was a Senator from Indiana when I was in 
the lower house. His wife was a daughter of 
Doctor Scott, who had been professor at Washing- 
ton College, Pennsylvania, when my father was 
a student there, and remembered him well and 
kindly. The Harrison family and our own in 
Virginia were connected in many ways, and 
Senator Harrison was my political friend and a 
firm believer in the possibility of building up a 
strong, respectable Republican party in Virginia. 
From all these causes I knew him fairly well — 
as well, I presume, as most people knew him, for 
he was not an approachable man and had few 
intimate friendships. Benjamin Harrison illus- 
trated a phase of human nature which is very 
common. He seemed desirous of being considered 
just what he was not and that which he could not 
be, however hard he might try — a Virginia 
Harrison. True, his grandfather was a Virginia 
Harrison. The Senator, while not ostentatious 
about it, loved to talk with those he knew well, 
about the Virginia Harrisons and was evidently 
proud, and justly so, of a connection which included 

19s 



196 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

so many typical and representative Virginians. In 
a word, in his innermost heart it pleased him to feel 
that he was one of them. He did indeed have two 
prominent traits of the Harrisons, for he was 
fond of shooting and a religious enthusiast, and 
many of them have been sportsmen and religious 
enthusiasts. He utterly lacked another prominent 
family trait, for many of the Virginia branch have 
dearly loved whisky. My father, who knew them 
all and loved them, but had a way of saying what 
he pleased, generalized Harrison traits by saying 
that he never knew a Harrison who was not a 
gentleman, but that they were inclined to run 
to extremes — some in the love of God, and others 
in the love of whisky. It was a great and a good 
family of people, and the individuals composing 
it were lovable, whether possessed by spiritual or 
spirituous fervour. The pride of General Harrison 
in being a member of it was perfectly natural. 
But he overlooked the fact that he had a mother 
as well as a father, when he thought he was a 
Virginia Harrison. His mother was from a typical 
New England family, and if there is a place in the 
world where the New Englander is more of a New 
Englander than he is in New England, it is the 
Western Reserve of Ohio, where Benjamin Harrison 
was born and reared by a mother of New England 
descent. 

In appearance, in manners in everything but 
name, he was as unlike a Virginian as a man 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 197 

could well be. I must not be understood as infer- 
ring by this that it was to his disadvantage. I simply 
state the fact without drawing or inferring any con- 
clusion from it, because I think he would have 
liked to be considered just what he was not. 

The Virginia Harrisons were as a class fine, 
strapping men. In my day I recall many hand- 
some specimens. There was old Mr. Peyton 
Harrison of Clifton, who looked like Moses or 
Aaron; Mr. William B. Harrison of Brandon, 
a singularly lovable man; Julian Harrison, the 
handsomest officer in Stuart's cavalry; "Red" 
Randolph of Elk Hill, and "Black" Randolph 
of Amphill; William M. Harrison and Wirt 
Harrison of Richmond; and Carter Harrison, 
" Black George," " Big George," " Little George," 
Burleigh and Shirley, and Lord knows how many 
more. All large-framed, open-eyed, splendid 
specimens of men. Some spiritually and some 
spirituously inclined, but all gentlemen of singular 
suavity and all typical Virginians. I never saw but 
one Virginia Harrison resembling the President 
in physique, and that was the late Dr. George 
Byrd Harrison, formerly of Brandon, but for years 
before his death of Washington, D. C. 

Benjamin Harrison was in stature a small man. 
He was what, in horses, would be known as an 
undersized, pony-built sorrel, with flaxen mane 
and tail. He did not look either strong or healthy. 
His hair and beard and eyelashes were sandy and 



198 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

had a sunburnt look. He was dish-faced, and 
his eyes were small, bright, and with a cunning 
look that gave little outward expression of the 
great power which the man unquestionably pos- 
sessed. His form was not imposing. He was 
generally attired in a black, double-breasted coat 
buttoned across an obtrusive up-standing little 
stomach. He showed an inclination to round 
shoulders, and stood reared back, creating the 
impression of a small man trying to look large. 
During his Senatorial days he was an unsociable, 
solitary, dreamy man. I have more than once 
observed him pacing up and down the grass- 
plot in front of his Washington residence, his 
hands interlocked behind him, looking as if lost in 
dreams and abstractions, and at such times his 
most intimate friend might pass near him without 
receiving the slightest recognition. Respect every- 
body had for him, but few felt any affection for 
him. He was an industrious worker in the Senate 
and wielded decided influence. He was a well- 
trained, sound and astute lawyer. In private con- 
versation his voice was inclined to a nasal drawl, 
but this disappeared when he spoke in public. 
There was a coldness and indifference in his 
manner in private which was very repellent, and 
absolutely different from the effect he produced 
when speaking. He was not only one of the 
wisest men of his time in all his public utterances, 
but, in public speaking, he warmed up and 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 199 

grew up to his thoughts in such manner that 
none of his contemporaries surpassed him in 
the power of arousing the enthusiasm of an 
audience. . 

The story was told — how true it was I do not know 
— that in one of his railroad campaigns through 
Indiana he was making a series of those remarkable 
speeches for which he became famous, and at 
every place he stopped the crowds who listened 
would become wildly enthusiastic. Then he would 
hold a reception in the car and the people, after 
shaking hands with him, would pass out of the 
other end of the car silent and depressed, as if 
suffering from a chill. A wag in the party, who 
was particularly anxious that the good effect of 
his speech should not be lost in a certain town, 
pulled the bell-rope and started the train as soon 
as Harrison stopped speaking. When chided for 
it he said: "Don't talk to me. I know my 
business. Ben Harrison had the crowd red-hot. 
I did not want him to freeze it out of them with 
his hand-shaking." 

This peculiarly repellent manner of General 
Harrison was the subject of constant ridicule 
among his political adversaries. The following 
quip of a bright young Democratic Congressman 
from Indiana is too good to omit. One day I 
mentioned a talk I had had with the then Senator. 
"Did he look yon in the eyes?" asked the young 
Congressman. "Really I cannot say whether he 



200 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

did or not," said L But I had noticed this 
pecuharity. In talking to one the Senator had 
the habit of looking down, or looking over one's 
shoulder, or looking away, as if in abstraction, 
only glancing at his interlocutor now and then 
with a sort of furtive or secretive or cunning look. 
"Oh! Get out," said the saucy fellow. "You 
know he didn't. He never does. He reminds 
me of the pig that sees the wind." " Now what do 
you mean by that?" I exclaimed, my curiosity 
excited. He answered: " Why, you were raised in 
the country. Don't you know how the pigs in 
winter time, when a nor'easter is blowing, stand 
with their noses pointing to the breeze and with 
eyes half shut, squeal and squeal. When the 
niggers see 'em doing that they say, ' Dar, look at 
him. He can see de wind.' That's just like Ben 
Harrison when he's talking to you." 

Another thing about Senator Harrison was the 
impression which he created that he was not a 
happy man. He certainly ought not to have 
been a disappointed man, for in most things he 
was blessed; and he may not have been unhappy, 
but he did not seem to be possessed of great 
capacity for happiness. He had a sweet home 
and a lovely wife and daughter' and was devoted 
to his little grandchild, whom everybody knew 
as "Baby McKee." But he no doubt had his 
disappointments, as other people have, and we will 
not discuss what they were. When the National 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 201 

Republican Convention of 1888 assembled in 
Chicago, I went from Virginia with a contesting 
delegation, and as the result of the contest became 
chairman of the Virginia delegation. The prom- 
inent candidates were Mr. Sherman, Mr. Blaine 
and Mr. Gresham. General Harrison had a fair 
local support, and General Alger's friends put him 
forward with great enthusiasm. If ever a man 
deserved a nomination for long and faithful service 
it was John Sherman. All my predilections were 
for him. But he never had the ghost of a show. 
In the first place, the cold temperament of Mr. 
Sherman prevented his having ardent friends. 
The Ohio delegation was not united in sincere 
advocacy of his claims, and some of them were 
ready, from the start, to desert him for Blaine or 
Harrison or McKinley. At one time a demonstra- 
tion was started in the Convention in favour of 
McKinley which might have assimied formidable 
proportions, but he rose in his seat and in an. 
impassioned way begged the Convention not to 
put him in a false position. He said that no 
power on earth would tempt him to betray his 
aged friend, Mr. Sherman, and that it was an out- 
rage upon him to place him in the attitude of even 
submitting quietly to such a suggestion. But 
the Alger men had no qualms of conscience about 
making inroads upon Mr. Sherman's delegates. 
Alger's people opened a fine headquarters, and the 
way the Southern negro delegates, who had come 



202 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

instructed for Sherman, swarmed to the Michigan 
man's standard and came away bearing Alger 
badges on their breasts was the very irony of 
fate. Sherman had championed the rights of the 
black man for thirty years; yet, when the time 
to reward him came, they betrayed him for thirty 
pieces of silver, in the face of positive instructions. 
Such treatment must have embittered his last 
days. 

It was evident that Sherman must be dropped, 
and Alger never had any chance. Gresham had 
friends, but that he also was weak and had enemies 
was demonstrated by an episode that occurred 
with Colonel Bob Ingersoll. Ingersoll was not a 
delegate, but in the recess of the Convention 
distinguished men were called upon to make short 
addresses. No man had a higher reputation as 
a platform orator than Ingersoll and he was 
exceedingly popular. When he .came to the 
speakers' stand there was a whirlwind of applause, 
which was converted into absolute silence as he 
began to speak. His utterances caught the im- 
mense gathering from the start, and after he saw 
he had his audience well in hand he began to 
picture, in his inimitable way, his conception of 
the qualities which an ideal President should 
possess. It was a gorgeous piece of imagery, and 
we almost caught our breath as he reached his 
climax. Then, with an impressive pause, he rose 
to his full height and exclaimed: "If asked who, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 203 

in all America, possesses preeminently these 
transcendent attributes of statesmanship, I would 
answer, without a moment's pause, Walter Q. 
Gresham!" 

There was a moment of silence, for the trick was 
so deftly turned that the real significance of all 
he had been saying was not comprehended until 
that instant. Then pandemonium broke loose. 
Of course the Greshamites tried to cheer, but 
everybody not for Gresham felt that Ingersoll 
had availed himself of a courtesy to usurp the 
function of a delegate and create a diversion in 
favour of his friend. There were yells, and hisses, 
and cat-calls, and cries of "put-him-out," and 
cheering for every other candidate, until Ingersoll, 
after vainly trying to proceed, left the platform and 
came out of the Auditorium, mad as a hatter and 
denouncing the crowd in such a string of oaths as 
only he could invoke. Ingersoll felt that insult 
all his life, and I never thought he was as enthusi- 
astic a Republican afterward. It was perhaps the 
only time in his whole life that an audience broke 
away from the spell of his captivating oratory 
and refused to listen to him further, although he 
had often spoken shocking things to hostile 
hearers. 

Blaine was abroad and in bad health. But he 
had a majority of the convention. Some o:' his 
friends established communication with him. I 
think he was in Florence. They beseeched him 



204 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

to allow them to use his name, and assiired him 
of the numination. While awaiting his response 
an informal conference was held, presided over 
by Foraker of Ohio, to ascertain how many votes 
might be relied upon for Blaine if his name was 
placed in nomination. Some amusing things 
occurred. There was an inquiry by States. When 
Louisiana was called, a coal-black giant arose, 
and this is about what he said: " Mr. Cheerman, 
I don't hardly know how to answer for Looseanner. 
When we fust cimi here we wus all for Mr. Blaine. 
He is de chile o' our hearts. But when de news 
wus dat he weren't gwine to be in de runnin' de 
boys begun to do a little stroke of business fur 
derselves, an' I kaint rightly tell you jess how de 
delligashun will stand on de ftist ballot, fur I 
expects a good many o' de boys has made dere 
con tracks fur at least one mo' ballot and wouldn't 
like to break 'em. But, sir, I knows wher dar 
hearts is, and, if you'll jess give 'em time to plow 
out dere rows, I is sho' dey'll all be back to 
Mr. Blaine by de time de second ballot comes." 
A roar of laughter greeted this announcement. 

Blaine's answer came, positively declining the 
nomination on the score of ill health. He was 
right, for he died soon afterward. Then we 
determined to unite on Harrison, and he was soon 
nominated. Immediately in front of us sat the 
Vermont delegation. It was solid from first to 
last in favour of Harrison, and Redfield Proctor, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 205 

the chairman, never failed, one very roll-call, to 
deliver in deep stentorian voice this answer: 
"Vermont casts her eight votes solidly for Ben- 
jamin Harrison." When on the final ballot 
Harrison won, Mr. Proctor received a great 
ovation, and Harrison made him his Secretary of 
War. I there formed a friendship with Mr. 
Proctor which has lasted until the present day. 

It fell to my lot to make one of the speeches in 
the Convention, ratifying Harrison's nomination. 
Everybody was feeling well and I did my best. 
It must have been a taking speech, for although it 
was made nearly seventeen years ago, I still meet 
men who recall with flattering vividness my 
description of the Virginia thoroughbred now un- 
blanketed and led out upon the track to contest 
for the great prize with the long-fetlocked New 
York Conestoga. 

The speech was only extemporaneous, and I 
thought at the time it was original. Since then, 
reading over again Shakespeare's "Venus and 
Adonis," I have often wondered how far it in- 
fluenced me in the picture I drew. I had not read 
it for some time at the time I made the speech, but 
am satisfied that the pigeon-holes of memory are 
so full in the mind of every man who reads much 
that he frequently uses their stores without being 
conscious of the fact. 

At any rate, the speech put me in the good 
graces of General Harrison, and he wrote me a 



2o6 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

nice letter of acknowledgment to my then home in 
Richmond, Virginia. Afterward he sent my oldest 
son to West Point, a position which he could hardly 
have hoped for if he had depended on Congressional 
appointment. I removed to New York to live 
in the autumn of 1888, and business called me to 
Indianapolis before General Harrison's inaugura- 
tion. He welcomed me very kindly to his home, 
and I had a pleasant dinner with the family. 
One little circumstance I recall most vividly. 
General Harrison prided himself upon his carving. 
He had a turkey before him, and whetted his knife 
with great particularity. He was an adept, but 
worked differently from anyone else I ever saw 
carve. With a very sharp knife he sliced the 
breast of the bird, at right angles to the breast- 
bone, until it was thoroughly divided. Then he 
made a deep incision lengthwise along the line 
of the breast-bone, and with the full length of the 
blade separated the whole half of the breast from 
the body and lifted it to a dish, where it lay already 
carved transversely. " Did you ever see anybody 
else do that?" said he, with manifest pride. I 
truthfully told him that I never did, and I'm glad 
I did not, for cross-cut turkey is not half as good as 
turkey carved with the fibre of the fiesh. 

Soon after his inauguration the President noti- 
fied me of his purpose to nominate my son as a 
cadet to West Point. His kindness was too prompt. 
I had not expected the honour until the following 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 207 

year. The boy was very young, almost too young, 
to go. I thanked the President and inquired 
whether I might not postpone acceptance until 
the following year. He gave me no encourage- 
ment to hope for another designation and said 
there were others waiting, so as it was a " now-or- 
never" offer, I accepted, and for five years that 
boy, who was too young to have been sent there, 
hung by the skin of his eyelids to the Military 
Academy, and finally graduated. During all that 
time I was in an agony of apprehension lest he 
should fail, and since his graduation have given 
West Point a wide berth. It is the coldest, 
hardest spot on earth, absolutely free from all 
sentimental consideration in its exaction that 
every cadet shall attain a certain standard. 
Of course that is right. It is what makes West 
Point what it is. But it does not make it a cheer- 
ful, loving place for anybody, especially anybody 
in trouble. The wheels go round, and anybody 
who falls under them is ground to powder without 
even a glance backward at the remains. 

[President Harrison was the only man I ever saw 
who could do another man a favour in such a way 
that all the sweetness and appreciation and sense 
of gratitude was gone from it, and this was the 
trouble with him in many instances. His personal 
characteristics alienated many who would other- 
wise have supported him. Mrs. Harrison died 
during the latter part of his term, so near indeed 

v_ 



2o8 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

to the time of election that I do not doubt his 
inability on that account to make a series of cam- 
paign speeches contributed largely to his defeat. 
Shortly before the election I had occasion to 
write to him upon a matter somewhat confidential, 
pertaining to the conduct of his canvass and 
received a characteristic letter which, while it was 
exceedingly kind, shows the sublime self-confidence 
of the man. Somehow he did not possess the 
faculty of attaching subordinates to him. And 
while his selections of his Cabinet were in the 
main wise, many of his smaller appointments 
were of men who were not loyal to him and who 
misrepresented him. At times, when he detected 
them, he was very direct and offensive to themTj 
I recall an instance in which a subordinate had 
made representations to me which upon conference 
with the President 1 found were untrue. Unfortu- 
nately for the offender, he put in an appearance 
while I was in the President's office and,being inter- 
rogated in my presence, could not deny his guilt. 
I never heard anybody rebuke another more 
severely than the President rebuked him ; but for 
some reason, perhaps political, the fellow was 
retained. He ought to have been summarily 
dismissed. He was a traitor to the Administra- 
tion before that, and no doubt hated the President 
afterward. The service was filled with men like him, 
and the secret influence of such antagonists no 
doubt contributed to President Harrison's defeat. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 209 

President Harrison was not a great man. He 
possessed political sagacity to a marked degree, 
and in that sense may be justly classed as a wise 
man ; but his was the wisdom of intense selfishness 
and caution, which distinctly differs from the 
broad, generous wisdom of really great men. 

He was in no sense a bad man. On the con- 
trary, he commanded the respect and the confidence 
of those who knew him most intimately. But 
there was a singular lack of personal magnetism 
in the man or enthusiasm for the man, even 
among those who were his ardent political 
supporters. ^ 



WILLIAM Mckinley 



XII.— WILLIAM Mckinley 

One of the first men with whom I became ac- 
quainted when I entered the House of Representa- 
tives as a member was Wilham McKinley, then 
called by all his associates Major McKinley, and it 
came about in this wise : 

At the close of the war a gentleman named 
Louis Schaefer, a resident of Canton, Ohio, opened 
a coiTespondence with my father. Mr. Schaefer 
was one of the best men I ever knew. He was a 
German. Although he resided in Ohio he thor- 
oughly sympathised with the South throughout 
the war, and now that she was defeated he ex- 
pressed himself as anxious to contribute out of his 
abundance to the relief of her poverty. Soon 
after the war ended he and his wife visited 
Richmond for the sole purpose of meeting my 
father personally. At his home in Canton he was 
universally regarded as a public-spirited citizen, 
and although his views antagonised the Union senti- 
ment about him, and no doubt made enemies by 
the boldness with which he expressed his opinions, 
he nevertheless commanded the respect of his com- 
munity and a great deal of affection. My father 
was interested in an asylum for the care of orphans 
of Confederate soldiers. Mr. Schaefer made a 



214 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

handsome contribution to that object. He was 
always actively interested in politics, and corres- 
ponded voluminously with my father on the sub- 
ject. About 1870 he induced my nephew, after his 
graduation in law, to go to Canton to practise his 
profession, and he became a member of Mr. 
Schaefer's household during several years residence 
there. I may mention incidentally that one of 
Mr. Schaefer's daughters afterward married a 
young attorney named William R. Day, who sub- 
sequently became Attorney General and Secretary 
of State under McKinley and is now an Associate 
Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. 
When my nephew, the former protege of Mr. 
Schaefer, was married, about 1872, Mr. Schaefer 
came to his wedding near Richmond and we had a 
jolly time together. It is needless to add that 
Mr. Schaefer was a rabid Democrat, and that in 
those days he hated Republicans and Republican- 
ism, and thought that " No good can come out of 
Nazareth." I doubted, when I became a Repub- 
lican, whether I should have the endorsement of my 
father's old friend, but one of the first letters of 
congratulation which I received was from Mr. 
Schaefer, who added that he was particularly 
anxious I should meet his repi'esentative. Major 
McKinley, "the only Republican I support." I 
was naturally anxious to know one whose personal 
attractiveness could overcome such prejudices as 
I knew Mr. Schaefer felt. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 215 

It was not difficult to find Major McKinley. He 
was studiously present at all sessions, a clean- 
shaven, sweet-faced, approachable man, who 
seemed to have as many friends on one side of the 
House as on the other. Our seats were near to- 
gether. I first met him in the barber shop of the 
House, where the barbers vied with each other to 
make it pleasant for the Major. He was lolling 
back in a chair, with an unlit cigar in his mouth, 
when I walked up to him, told him of our common 
acquaintance and introduced myself. McKinley 
was a genial soul and, when pleased, had a 
peculiar light in his eyes. He was fond of Mr. 
Schaefer, and appreciated the exception to political 
prejudices which he had made in his favour. 
From that hour we were good friends. 

One day, while the Fitz John Porter case was 
under discussion in the House, McKinley gave a 
party of us assembled in the cloak-room an inter- 
esting account of how, although he was a Union 
soldier and resident of Ohio, he became a Mason 
in the lodge at Winchester, Virginia, during the 
war. He said he was stationed at Winchester 
in the winter of 1864, and that Judge Richard 
Parker, a citizen of the town, was conspicuously 
active in alleviating the suffering of the people. 
This brought him into frequent contact with the 
Federal authorities. They all conceived a fondness 
for the old gentleman, which he in turn soon 
reciprocated. One of the Federal officers was 



2i6 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

a prominent Mason and discovered that Judge 
Parker was Master of the Winchester lodge. 
The lodge room had been dismantled and was 
probably occupied by Federal troops, but the 
faithful Master had all the paraphernalia in his 
possession. The Federal officer proposed to him 
to re-open the lodge. At first, as a loyal Con- 
federate, he opposed the idea, but at last yielded 
to the argument that Masonry was a universal 
brotherhood, and that its teachings would be 
peculiarl}^ available then and there to mitigate 
the hardships of war. So the lodge was re-opened, 
and a number of Masons in the Federal Arm}^ 
attended its meetings. Masonry became a fad 
among the uninitiated in Winchester, and Mc- 
Kinley, among others, joined. 

McKinley was a great peacemaker. He dis- 
couraged all kinds of acrimony in the debates. 
I am afraid I cannot say the same for myself. I 
think and have always thought that it is a good 
thing now and then to tell a political opponent 
just what you think of him. 

One day I had a royal tilt with a peppery old 
member from Indiana, who threatened that when 
my contest was reached I would be unseated. 
McKinley, after it was all over, took occasion to 
give me some friendly advice: "Don't allow them 
to draw you into such controversies. No good 
can come of them. You may provoke them into 
turning you out. I have a contest. But you 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 217 

never hear of that. I go on about my business and 
am not even ashamed to make myself useful by 
working hard on their committees. You ought to 
do the same. I like you and don't want to see you 
turned out, but, if you taunt them and defy them, 
as you do, you will tempt them to unseat you." 

My case was never voted on. One day, toward 
the close of the session, Mr. Turner of Georgia, 
chaiiTnan of the Committee of Elections, a sallow 
taciturn man, with no bowels of mercy for a 
political opponent, called up the contested election 
case of Wallace versus McKinley and, after a 
brief debate, in which no sort of consideration 
was shown him, McKinley was unseated. His 
defeat did not amount to much, for his term was 
nearly ended, and he was already re-elected to the 
next House, but he took it very solemnly. I was 
sorry for him, but could not resist a little badinage. 
I passed by his desk where he stood tying up his 
papers preparing to depart, with the resigned air 
of a Christian martyr. "Old fellow," said I, "I 
feel awfully about this. But you brought it all 
upon yourself. You would not listen to my advice. 
If you had gone along quietly, and had not 
attracted attention to your case by wrangling and 
abusing your political opponents, you might have 
finished your term undisturbed. Look at me! 
Why did you not follow my example?" 

McKinley had big, sad eyes when he was de- 
pressed. Turning them toward me with a pained 



2i8 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

expression, he saw no joke in what I was saying 
and contented himself by replying: "I think 
that sort of thing is, under the circumstances, 
very unkind." When the sting of his defeat wore 
off he enjoyed the way I had turned the tables on 
him and fully forgave me. 

In the National Convention of 1888 I saw a great 
deal of him. After his indignant rebuke of those 
who tried to spring a nomination upon him, when 
he was instructed for Sherman, I went over and 
sat beside him. Said I: "I never felt so proud 
of you as when you spumed that sort of double 
dealing. Your chance will come. But this is not 
the time. You could not afford to take such a 
nomination." 

He thanked me, took my Virginia badge off my 
breast and pinned his in its place. It gave me an 
idea. I went about the hall and procured the 
badges worn by numerous leaders from different 
States and took them home with me, for my wife 
to make a crazy quilt of them. That was the 
passing fad of that day among ladies. But 
although I still have the badges worn by McKinley, 
Secretary Thompson of Indiana, Senators Quay, 
Allison and many others, they have not yet been 
worked up into a quilt. 

At that time there was intense rivalry among the 
factions in Ohio. One of the Ohio leaders saw 
McKinley and myself talking together. He per- 
haps tried to eavesdrop. He probably caught the 




Photograph by Charles Parker, Washington. 
"MARK" HANNA 
U. S. Senator from Ohio (1897-1905). 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 219 

words, " This is not the time." I may mention as 
illustrative of political meanness that he went about 
whispering that the demonstration in favour of 
McKinley had been planned, and was known in 
advance to McKinley, and that he heard me apolo- 
gising for its miscarriage by telling him it had not 
been started at the proper time. I was in Colum- 
bus, Ohio, the day of McKinley's inauguration as 
Governor. He was exceedingly kind to me and 
invited me to accompany him, but I could not 
do so. 

On the 22nd of February, 1894 or 1895, Mc- 
Kinley, William J. Bryan and I were the speakers 
at the banquet of the Union League Club, 
Chicago. McKinley never was an ornate orator. 
I heard him on many occasions and his speeches, 
with the exception of those on the tariff, 
concerning which he was always interesting, and 
one speech I heard him deliver to veterans at 
a re-union in Buffalo, were not very attractive. 
Of course the glamour of the Presidency makes 
ordinary speeches sound fine and read well, but I 
repeat that McKinley was no orator. And the 
speech made that night by William Jennings 
Bryan was below, rather than above, mediocrity. 
It was a distinct disappointment, and he said 
himself that it was a failure. I had heard so 
much of him that I was sorely disappointed. 
Since then he has undoubtedly made many 
stirring appeals, but that was the only speech I 



2 20 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

ever heard from Br^^an from beginning to end 
until I heard him speak at the Gridiron Club in 
Washington in 1905, when he made a speech 
that was a model of good taste, good temper and 
kind feeling. I will leave it to someone else, if 
anybody feels interest enough in the subject to 
refer to it again, to tell what sort of speech I made. 
I spoke on the subject of George Washington the 
Virginian. ^' "' ^.^ f , - 

During the two 3^ears prior to his nomination for 
the Presidency McKinley was frequently in New 
York. He usually stopped at the ill-fated Windsor 
Hotel, and I saw a great deal of him. I remember 
particularly one visit that he paid to my house. 

Henry Irving had been civil to me when I was 
in London. Some time in the winter of 1894-5 
he was playing in New York. I was. anxious to 
entertain him, but the only way to get at him 
was to have him after the theatre. I lived at that 
time in a small house in Forty-fourth Street. I 
had some Chesapeake Bay terrapin, Virginia hams 
and Old Plantation oysters. Irving and his 
right bower Bram Stoker, a prince of good fellows, 
agreed to come, and my first idea was to have 
half a dozen friends to meet them. But the party 
expanded until I think we had when we assembled 
at midnight twenty-seven men present, and it was 
a remarkable gathering. I do not recall them all, 
but Elihu Root, General Horace Porter, John W. 
Mackay, Colonel Tom Ochiltree, Joe Jefferson, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 221 

William J. Florence, Mr. O. D. Minen of the 
Scientific American, and John Cadwalader were 
of the party, and in the midst of it in came 
Governor McKinley and his staff. On his staff 
were the present Governor of Ohio, Myron T. 
Herrick, and Colonel James H. Hoyt. My poor 
little house was crowded to overflowing. We 
found it necessary to place card tables in the 
drawing room to accommodate some of the party. 
It was a literal go-as-you-please entertainment, 
but the fare was good and the company took it 
good-naturedly. McKinley particularly enjoyed 
it. It was an all-night affair. Irving, who was a 
night-owl, stayed until five o'clock a. m. Some 
one who heard of it jocularly asked him why he 
did not remain for breakfast. With a look of 
perplexity and a characteristic grimace he said, 
with a drawl, " How could I ? The hot water gave 
out. We could not drink cold Scotch whisky 
after daybreak." 

On many occasions afterward McKinley re- 
ferred to the hilarity and fun of that night, for 
while he himself was not much of a fun-maker he 
enjoyed bright company. 

When the time came for the Presidential Con- 
vention of 1896, Senator Piatt sought to secure 
a solid delegation from New York in favor 
of Governor and ex- Vice-President Morton. For 
some reason he did not want McKinley, and used 
Morton as a pretext for his opposition. He an- 



222 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

nounced that he would have a sohd Morton 
delegation, but six McKinley delegates contested. 
As I recall them, they were Hon. Cornelius N. 
Bliss, Colonel S. Van Rensselaer Cruger, General 
Anson G. McCook, General C. H. T. Colhns, William 
Brookfield, and I forget the other. I was selected 
as the lawyer to present their case at the Conven- 
tion. Mr. Bliss and Colonel Cruger came to an 
agreement to divide with Howard Carroll and 
William Barnes, their opponents and friends, but 
my other four clients were seated on contest. I 
also represented two contestants from Virginia, who 
were given half seats. We had a jolly good time 
in St. Louis, and, as I was not a delegate and my 
work was done, I left before the Convention com- 
pleted its work. The last man I saw before my 
departure was Hobart, who was nominated Vice- 
President. He was a very attractive fellow. On 
my way home I stopped at Canton to see McKin- 
ley. He welcomed me most cordially, and I spent 
some hours in his home in very intimate com- 
munion with him. Among other things he showed 
me the draft of the gold plank in the Republi- 
can platform, which had been prepared by Mr. 
Kohlsaat of Chicago a week before the convention 
met. It was substantially the one adopted, and 
had already been approved by Senator Lodge, 
who was entrusted with the preparation of that 
feature of the platfonn. Governor Foraker has 
also sent me his account of the manner in which 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 223 

that plank of the platform was agreed upon in 
Committee. This fact is worth mentioning, as the 
friends of Senator Piatt of New York circulated 
a report after the Convention th?t he, upon his 
arrival in St. Louis, had compelled the framers of 
the platform to adopt his views about the gold 
standard. In point of fact the matter was settled 
long before his arrival, and Senator Piatt had 
nothing to do with it. He had little or no influence 
in the Convention. 

Some time before his inauguration McKinley 
invited me to visit him at his home in Canton. 
He discussed quite freely the numerous people he 
was considering for Cabinet positions. Among 
other things he said he wanted a Southern man in 
his Cabinet. He was kind enough to say that he 
had been considering me as a possibility for 
Attorney General, but that the trouble in my case 
was that I lived in the North and that Southern 
Republicans would, for that reason, not be satisfied 
with me as a representative of the South, while 
the New Yorkers would object for fear that I 
would be charged to New York. 

I interrupted him by jocularly telling him he 
need not discuss that subject further; that I could 
not afford to be Attorney General on the salary; 
that if I should take the place the Marshal of the 
District of Columbia would have his hand in 
my collar for debt by the end of my term. At that 
time he was also considering Judge Nathan Goff of 



224 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

West Virginia, but I think Judge Goff was unwilling 
to accept. We lunched together and Mrs. McKinley 
was present. She was a sweet, pathetic little 
invalid, and his tenderness to her was toviching. I 
remember saying at the lunch table something to 
McKinley about his tenure of his new office being 
more secure than that in Congress when Wallace 
turned him out. Mrs. McKinley interrupted by 
inquiring something, with a surprised look, which 
implied that she did not altogether understand 
what I meant when I spoke about Wallace. Her 
husband adroitly turned the subject, and I 
verily believe that through consideration for her 
health she had never been allowed to hear of his 
defeat. The President-elect asked me what posi- 
tion I wanted. I told him I was like Beverley 
Tucker when Stephen A. Douglas said to him: 
"Bev.,what shall I do for you when I am President ?" 
Tucker was a fellow of infinite jest. " Stephen, old 
boy," he replied quickly, "when you are President 
just walk down Pennsylvania Avenue with me, 
your arm about my neck, and call me Bev., and I 
will do the rest." The joke pleased him im- 
mensely, and I heard of his repeating it afterward. 
I did, however, tell the President-elect frankly, as 
our intimacy and his inquiry justified, that I 
wanted to be United States Attorney for the 
Southern District of New York. At first he 
inquired who were the other aspirants. Then he 
said that unless some new and unforeseen con- 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 225 

tingency arose he would nominate me. But I saw- 
that something else was on his mind. At last it 
came out. "Is Senator Piatt for you?" said he. 
" Of course not," said I. " Have I not been fighting 
him to seat delegates for you. You know Piatt. 
How can you expect me to secure his endorsement. 
Are you going to penalise your friends because they 
cannot secure the endorsement of those they have 
antagonised fighting for you?" He mused and 
said: " Yes, I know. But — you know the deference 
paid to Senatorial endorsements for office like this. 
You know how the success of any Administration 
depends upon the support of the Senate. You 
know what a narrow margin I shall have in the 
Senate. I cannot afford to have another Garfield 
row. We only have a majority of two or three in 
the Senate. Even if Piatt will not endorse you, 
can you not make him agree not to fight you if 
I name you? " I told him I would see what could 
be done. Senator Piatt's attitude seemed to give 
him great concern. Piatt had opposed his nomina- 
tion, but supported him for election, and since the 
election he had heard nothing from him. He was 
anxious to know what their relations were to be. 
He commissioned me to call upon Piatt on my 
return and give him to understand that the 
President-elect cherished no sort of resentment 
toward him for his opposition to his nomination; 
that his feelings were altogether kindly; that he 
desired his advice and co-operation in regard to 



226 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

New York matters, and was prepared to show him 
all the consideration to which the Senator from the 
greatest State in the Union was entitled. At the 
same time I was to find out Piatt's attitude toward 
my own aspirations. Immediately on my return 
to New York I saw Piatt and he met the Presi- 
dent's overtures in the kindliest spirit. Concern- 
ing my aspirations he said he was fully committed 
to another, but that if the President saw fit to nomi- 
nate me he would not oppose my confirmation. I 
reported the result of m}^ visit to McKinley . It was 
not long before I found out that I had brought the 
two together so effectually that I had squeezed my- 
self out, for McKinley needed Piatt as badly as Piatt 
needed McKinley, and both were political traders. 
The appointment was delayed a long time. In the 
summer of 1897 I met the President at a Grand 
Army Reunion at Buffalo. We saw a good deal 
of each other. He made a fine speech at the 
banquet, the best I ever heard from him. I was 
an " also ran," and spoke after him. My train de- 
parted about eleven o'clock p. m. and I was com- 
pelled to leave. As I edged my way out behind 
those seated on the dais I passed the President, 
and, looking up to say good-bye, he pulled me down 
to him and said something very kind about my 
speech. I said: "Thank you. I wonder if it was 
good enough to pull off that Attorneyship I've 
been expecting so long." His reply was, "Have 
you secured Piatt's support?" The reply nettled 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 227 

me and I said: "No. Did you secure it when I 
made him my opponent fighting your battles for 
you? Seems as if I ought to have sided with him 
in order to have you for a friend." He took the 
rebuke kindly, and said he wanted to see me in 
Washington soon. I was not therefore surprised 
when some time later I had a request to visit 
him in Washington. Meanwhile Mr. Piatt had 
told me that he had said to the President just what 
he promised that he would. My meeting with the 
President was in what is known as the " red room." 
Secretary Alger was present. The interview opened 
by McKinley's telling me how much attached to 
me he was and how everybody knew it. Then 
I knew what was coming. He went on to say 
that I must know his decision did not depend 
on his relative liking of Senator Piatt and myself; 
that he had been my friend for many years; and 
that he had been prejudiced against Piatt, al- 
though since he had met him he esteemed him 
highty. But that he felt bound not to antagonise 
Piatt in the matter of this Attorneyship; that his 
margin of support in the Senate was too narrow 
to justify it. I interrupted him to inquire: "Did 
Mr. Piatt not write to you that, while he had sup- 
ported another, if you chose to nominate me 
he would not object?" "Oh, yes, maybe he 
did," said he, "but I have seen Piatt and I know 
how he feels, and I know I cannot jeopardise the 
Party by fighting Piatt. I believe you are too 



228 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

good a friend to ask me to do that." "Mr. 
President," said I, rising to go, "your decision 
is not a surprise to me. I release you from all 
obligations. I have long since learned how friend- 
ship is sacrificed in the game of politics. Piatt 
has something you want. You have something 
Piatt wants. Go ahead with the arrangement. 
Next time I want something and you and Piatt 
are wrangling, I will support Piatt if I prize what 
I want more than I do your friendship. A man is 
a fool who is sentimental in politics." " Now you 
are mad and losing your temper," said he in a 
grieved way. " I never was less mad in my life," 
I replied; "I am only describing coolly what I 
see." McKinley talked kindly and said something 
about there being other ways in which he could 
attest his friendship, and Secretary Alger said a 
word or two about what he knew of McKinley's 
attachment, and I left in no very pleasant temper. 
Piatt's man received the appointment. Some time 
afterward McKinley gave me a very handsome 
special appointment, but he knew just what I 
thought of him. It was this: He was naturally 
an amiable man, but exceedingly ambitious; so 
ambitious that he had no idea of imperilling any 
personal interest for friendly inclinations. If it 
was necessary to sacrifice a weak friend to propi- 
tiate a powerful enemy he would not hesitate for 
one moment to do so. To his powerful friends, 
on whom he was dependent, he was loyal to the 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 229 

point of doing anything they required, even things 
which his judgment or his conscience did not 
approve, but that was only another form of self- 
ishness. His natural inclination to weaker friends 
was kindly, and when he might assist them without 
danger to himself he did so with a show of great 
generosity. But when doing so called on him 
to imperil any selfish interest he did not hesitate 
to leave them in the lurch. Secretary Alger him- 
self experienced this. No man was ever more loyal 
to McKinley, and he was an excellent Secretary 
of War, but when McKinley found that there was a 
public clamour against Alger he did not stand by 
him as he should have done, he sacrificed him for 
his own benefit without a qualm. In a word, 
McKinley was nothing like as unselfish a man 
as he has the reputation of having been; he was 
much more of a trading politician than he has 
the reputation of having been ; he was not as high 
as the public estimate places him; and while he 
was a kind-hearted man, he was a very timid, 
calculating person; and while personally not cor- 
rupt was under many bad and venal influences. 
What saved McKinley and will pass his name 
down to history as a much greater man than he 
really was, is that he had a singularly able 
coterie of men about him, and presided over the 
destinies of this Nation when our people were 
more prosperous, more virile, more ready to 
work out their own destiny and to achieve their 



230 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

own glory than they ever had been before, or 
may ever be again. 

McKinley was naturally of a cautious and a timid 
nature. The swift rush of events after the blowing 
up of the Maine alarmed him. Well it might. 
The country was not prepared for war in any way. 
With a more powerful adversary than Spain, the 
precipitate way in which our people forced the 
war might, and probably would, have produced a 
great disaster. It was this doubtless that alarmed 
McKinley and brought forth his desperate appeals 
for delay. But the rashness of the populace 
proved to be a true inspiration, and the victories 
we won so rapidly were little short of miracles in 
their bloodlessness and their completeness. The 
rapidity of the formation of our armies and navies ; 
the thoroughness of their equipment ; the celerity 
and precision of their work — while due to the 
work of a thousand master minds, product of our 
whirling period of activity — will always redound to 
the credit of McKinley and give him higher rank 
than as a man he was entitled to. He was never 
a vindictive man. His kindness and his amiability 
disarmed to a great extent resentment for his 
shortcomings. 

When the war broke out my boys went wild. 
The eldest was in the army, and the next two 
wer e graduates of the Virginia Military Institute. 
McKinley promptly commissioned the latter two 
as Captain and First Lieutenant in Colonel 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 21,1 

Pettit's 4th Regiment of U. S. Volunteer Infantry. 
My oldest son he made an Assistant Adjutant 
General with rank of Captain, after Santiago, and 
afterward Major in the 47th Infantry Volunteers. 
My second son he afterwards promoted to be 
Major in the 4th. He even offered me a Brigadier 
General's commission, but just at that time I was 
engaged in an important railroad reorganization 
and declined it, although it was tempting to the 
vanity of an ex-Confederate. 

The last time I saw McKinley was at Bluff Point. 
I was chairman of a committee appointed to call 
on him and invite him to attend a great celebration 
of Dewey's victory in New York. The place is 
beautiful, and we reached it on a lovely day. 
After our task was performed I was about to 
withdraw when McKinley, who knew how I felt 
about the United States Attorneyship, approached 
me in his most seductive way. He knew my weak 
point. "Well," said he, calling me by my first 
name, "How are our boys?" "Very well, I 
thank you, Mr. President — one in the Philippines 
and two in Cuba. All very well." "And how is 
Mrs. Wise?" he added; "I expect that anxiety 
about all those boys in the army has made her lose 
the girlish appearance she had when we were 
frolicking that night with Irving." I thanked him 
and made some reply. Running his arm through 
mine, as he often did in the old days, he drew me 
aside and said: " Where is the little chap that made 



232 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

photographs of the Spaniards as he charged them 
in the 9th Infantry at San Juan Hill? " " Why, he 
has rejoined his regiment and is serving in Northern 
Luzon." " Now, I want him to be a Major in one 
of the new regiments we are recruiting," was his 
quick reply. Whatever lingering resentment I 
may have felt against McKinley was surely dis- 
armed by this considerate remembrance of my 
eldest son. Turning to him, and grinning, I said: 
"Mr. President, is this business or conversation? 
Piatt has no nominee for this place, has he?" 
He in turn said: "There you go again. 'Still 
harping on my daughter.' No, I want that boy 
appointed. You write to Root and tell him I 
want it done and I will write, too." Shaking his 
hand cordially, I went off and wrote at once to 
Secretary Root, one of the best friends and 
truest men I ever knew, and within a week 
received a telegram from him saying: "Con- 
gratulate Major Hugh D. Wise on his appoint- 
ment to the 47th Infantry." I little thought, 
when I last looked into the kindly eyes of 
McKinley that summer day at Bluff Point, that 
we would never meet again. He was so full of 
life and hope and health that a long career seemed 
spread out before him. 

A few weeks later I was at my little country 
place in Virginia. It is on the point of a cape 
far from the railroad and telegraph. We were at 
breakfast when one of the servants came in with 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 233 

the report that McKinley had been shot. I 
regarded it at first as a mere idle country rumour, 
but went to the 'phone and inquired of the tele- 
graph office in the village twelve miles away, and to 
my horror the rumour was confirmed. What sur- 
prised me most was the credulity of people in 
thinking there was any hope of his recovery. 
Surgery has undoubtedly made great advances in 
late years, and I am no skilled surgeon, but it will 
be many a day, with the practical experience I 
have had with wounds like that, before any surgeon, 
however eminent, will make me believe that there 
is one chance in ten thousand for any victim of a 
gun-shot wound through the intestines. 

Poor McKinley! He deserved a better fate. 
The criticisms I have passed upon him above, 
while they were deserved, do not destroy or 
materially weaken a feeling akin to affection 
which I always felt for him; and while his friend- 
ship failed me once on a pinch, he showed me 
many times his kindness of heart, and friendly 
interest, and desire to serve me — when he did not 
have to endanger himself. That was his nature 
and he could not change it. On the whole his 
was a nature far above the average of mankind in 
sweetness and kindliness, and not a whit below 
the average in selfishness, perhaps, when men are 
subjected to the test. 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT 



XIIL— THEODORE ROOSEVELT 

Of all the men who have occupied the Presi- 
dential office in my day and time, the present 
incumbent is to me at once the most interesting, 
unique, and in many respects the most admirable 
man among them. I shall discuss him as freely 
as if he were dead, for, while he is far from perfec- 
tion, no one can fail to see from what I shall say 
of him that I admire and respect him greatly, and 
count his admirable traits as many times over- 
balancing the few defects to which I shall refer- 
Perhaps I notice the latter more than most men 
would do, because some of them I have myself 
in such exaggerated degree that, instead of being 
mere drawbacks, they are dominant and dis- 
qualifying. Criticism is no more agreeable to 
Theodore Roosevelt than it is to the average of 
mankind, I think, for I remember one occasion 
when, at the time he was Police Commissioner 
of New York City, I demurred most seriously 
to the rigid way in which he and his associates 
were enforcing certain provisions of the law of 
excise. I talked plainly in open meeting, coup- 
ling my criticism with the assurance of more 
than ordinary personal regard. Nobody loves 
a stiff dispute better than Roosevelt, and he 

237 



238 RECOLLECTIONS OF. 

came back at me hammer and tongs. His open- 
ing sentence was an acknowledgment of our 
kindly relations, but he added, sardonically: 
"Of course we are friends; I know it. But I 
cannot help quoting: 'I know that you love me 
most truly, but why did you kick me down-stairs ? " ' 

More than once he and I have metaphorically 
punched each other, but, as an Englishman says 
of another whom he admires, "he can stand 
a lot of beating," and I admire him all the more 
for it. He may not always be right. I do not 
think he is always right. But he always believes 
he is right, and he has the courage of his con- 
victions. When he is with you, he is with you 
generously, and confidingly, and whole-souled. 
When he is against you, he will not lie to you, or 
deceive you, or postpone you, but will tell you so, 
and tell you why, and argue against you, and sit 
down on you, and, if need be, fight you to a finish. 
In a word, he is a man, a bold outspoken man, every 
inch of him a man, whether he is your friend or 
foe. And with all his positiveness and aggressive- 
ness he combines, in his dealings with a certain 
class of politicians who could make great trouble 
for him if he did not conciliate them, about as 
smooth and cunning political acumen as any man 
I ever saw. 

In the course of a long acquaintance with and 
observation of Roosevelt, I have watched his deal- 
ings with professional politicians from many 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 239 

States, with mingled wonder and admiration. 
He never has been a machine man, and he never 
has been the voluntary choice of the class of 
men who gain prominence through control of 
political machines. In his heart he does not 
admire them, and in their hearts they have always 
looked upon him as an infliction. More than once 
they have tried to cut him down by foul riding, 
and would have been glad to accept temporary 
defeat in order to put a quietus upon Roosevelt's 
political ambitions. And nobody has known it 
better than Roosevelt. Yet the "impetuous," the 
"hot-headed," the "aggressive," the "uncalculat- 
ing " Teddy has never been betrayed into a breach 
with any of them which would give them the excuse 
they sought. He has never lost sight of the absolute 
necessity of having the machines supporting him 
after election. He has, over and over again, 
adroitly circumvented their machinations to defeat 
his election, and afterward calculated to a nicety 
just how much recognition was necessary to 
propitiate them into a support of his Administra- 
tion. He has understood all the while that 
what he did for them was political purchase- 
money, indispensable to his own strength; and 
they, political parasites as they are, while not 
getting half they wanted, yet could not live with- 
out what they did get, and have accepted just 
enough to keep them from kicking over the 
political pail. He has forborne from the denun- 



240 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

elation of them which he felt in his heart; and 
muzzled and utilised the political wolves who 
would rend him if they dared. I have often 
laughed to myself, thinking what he would say 
about them, and they about him, if both were 
free to express their opinions of each other. His 
course has no doubt cost him many severe efforts 
at self-restraint, and at times he has no doubt 
been forced to concessions and sacrifices of his 
personal wishes which have tantalised him 
greatly. But he has, in a discriminating way, no 
less than great, sacrificed the lesser to the greater 
object and won, leaving this base but indispens- 
able class of supporters baffled and disappointed, 
because, knowing just what he thinks of them, 
they find no excuse in his treatment of them 
for betrayal or desertion. 

To the veteran observer who knows how domi- 
nant the machine was with certain of his prede- 
cessors, and how insolent and over-shadowing it 
had become, it is a refreshing sight to see him 
the real controlling force of his Administration, 
and the old magnates unhappy at the decline of 
their importance, but silently pretending to ac- 
quiesce. 

If Roosevelt had shown the same political 
acumen in dealing with all the subjects that have 
arisen that he has in his handling of the machine 
leaders, I firmly believe he would have received, 
in the last election, the unanimous vote of the 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 241 

Electoral College; for no man, during my life- time, 
has seemed, in his personality, so to appeal to 
the imagination, or to have so strong a hold upon 
the affections of the masses of the American 
people. 

I did not know his father. He died before I 
came to live in New York. But from all accounts 
of him, he was one of the gentlest, most lovable, 
public-spirited, and popular men that ever lived 
in New York City. Theodore Roosevelt does not, 
however, inherit the manners or the gentler traits 
of his father. In his sturdiness and love of life's 
battles and enterprises, he much more resembles 
his uncle, Mr. Robert Roosevelt, who has been 
my friend and associate these many years. The 
most lovable Roosevelt I ever knew was the 
President's brother, Elliott, now dead and gone. 
He was one of my earliest acquaintances in New 
York, and our attachment grew from the moment 
of our first meeting until his early death. Perhaps 
he was nothing like so aggressive or so forceful a 
man as Theodore, but if personal popularity could 
have bestowed public honours on any man there 
was nothing beyond the reach of Elliott Roosevelt. 

In those days we were all much younger than 
we are now, and the things which amused us then 
have ceased to charm. Long before the horse 
show became a fad, the annual dog show of the 
Westminster Kennel Club was the thing which 
brought forth New York Society in all its glory. 



242 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

It was no dog traders' mart. The Westminster 
Kennel Club was composed of the elite young 
sportsmen of the city. I recall such men as J. O. 
Donner, C. DuBois Wagstaff, Pierre Lorillard, 
John Heckscher, Henry Munn, Dick Pancoast, 
Seward and Walter Webb, George De Forest 
Grant, Coleman Drayton, Elliott Smith, Anthony 
and John C. Higgins, dear old Charlie Raymond, 
Elliott Roosevelt, and many others. They gave 
the show and acted as stewards and judges and all 
that, and society came to it at Madison Square 
Garden. I came up from Virginia to judge the 
setters and the pointers, and they brought over 
men like Dalziel and the best judges from Eng- 
land. We gave the "four hundred" a great run 
for their money until eleven o'clock at night, and 
then we generally gave ourselves a great run on 
their money at a banquet at the famous old 
Hotel Brunswick, near by the Madison Square 
Garden, where our show was held. "Toney" 
Higgins became Senator from Delaware, John C. 
Higgins a foreign Minister, Seward Webb a 
millionaire, and the others are now dead or gouty 
or on the retired list, and the Brunswick has been 
pulled down. But those were never to be forgotten 
days in our coterie. Elliott Roosevelt was among 
the younger and later set who followed my hey- 
dey, and "Teddy," while he was a "dead-game 
sport," seldom showed up, as he was a member 
of the Legislature or playing cowboy in the West. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 243 

Still, he and Ray Hamilton and fellows of that 
class were counted in " the gang " which embraced 
men from the age of Carroll Livingston down to 
the fledgelings. 

It was a splendid lot of fellows. They were 
not dissipated roisterers and drunkards and gam- 
blers. They were really a fine and refined set 
of gentlemen sportsmen. 

I have, in a previous chapter, mentioned the 
first letter I ever received from Theodore Roose- 
velt. It was in 1885, when I was running for Gov- 
ernor against Fitzhugh Lee, and it expressed his 
good wishes for my success. Of course that gave 
me a kindly feehng for Roosevelt. My next dis- 
tinct remembrance of him is meeting him at a 
luncheon given by Elliott at the Down Town 
Club about 1888. I met Elliott Roosevelt with 
General Sorrel of Georgia in New Street one day. 
Mr. James Gracie, Roosevelt's uncle, joined us. 
Gracie's brother, General Archibald Gracie, was 
killed in the Confederate service on the lines at 
Petersburg. His brigade adjoined my father's 
at the time of his death. 

The Roosevelt boys always had a large circle of 
Southern friends. Their uncle, their mother's 
brother, Col. Bullock of Georgia, was one of the 
finest officers in the Confederate Navy and a very 
popular man. 

Sorrel had served on Longstreet's staff, with such 
conspicuous gallantry that he was promoted at one 



244 RECOLLECTIONS 01? 

bound from Lieutenant Colonel on the Staff to 
Brigadier General in the line. I knew him well 
and we were warm friends. 

"Hallo, here he comes now," shouted Elliott as 
I crossed the street, and I learned that they were 
in search of me for a luncheon at the Down Town 
Club. When we arrived there we found Theodore 
Roosevelt and Russell Harrison, son of the newly 
elected President. It was an entertaining luncheon. 
Young Harrison, like Theodore Roosevelt, had been 
roughing it in the West and their accounts of 
Western life were most interesting. I remember 
Harrison telling how he had been present at 
the lynching of a horse thief and was afterward 
summoned on a grand jury to investigate the cir 
cumstances attending it. 

At that time Theodore Roosevelt was one of the 
huskiest, most energetic, pushing men of thirty that 
I ever met. Shortly afterward Elliott, Theodore, 
General Sorrel and I dined together at Elliott Roose- 
velt's home, en garcon, and I nevermore enjoyed an 
evening, for both Sorrel and Theodore Roosevelt 
were full to overflowing of their reminiscences, the 
one of the Civil war, the other of his life in the West, 

It was a deep distress to me when Elliott died 
soon afterward. I lost one df -the sweetest 
friends of my early manhood. The two brothers 
were much attached to each other, and if Elliott 
had lived I would always have had a powerful 
friend at court, I feel sure. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 245 

When Theodore Roosevelt became a Police 
Commissioner in New York, one of his associates 
was the present General Fred. Grant. Grant is one 
of the best of fellows, but an easy-going man, 
about as free from strenuousness as any man I 
ever saw. At that time I saw a good deal of him, 
and his descriptions of the meetings of the Board 
were most entertaining. It was a so-called non- 
partisan Board, composed of Roosevelt, Grant, 
and a Tammany Democrat. The police adminis- 
tration of New York at that time was about as 
rotten as anything in the unsavory record of 
Tammany rule. Roosevelt was placed there to 
break it up, and I presume no man ever had a 
more congenial task. He has written about 
treading softly and having a club. He had his 
club then and did not tread sof tl}^ From the day he 
entered he began to fight, and he tore up the police 
abuses by the roots. When he took charge he 
walked into a veritable hornets' nest, for the whole 
police force was packed with creatures of Tam- 
many in thorough sympathy with the minority of 
the Board, and they did everything in their power 
to thwart him. Every morning the newspapers 
gave us fresh accounts of rows in the sessions of 
the Police Board. For once at any rate Roose- 
velt had all the fighting he wanted, and he kept 
it up until he reorganised the entire force and gave 
New York a better police service than she ever had 
before. To this day the police department shows 



246 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

the good effects of the dynamiting he gave it. 
Grant, although not so aggressive as Roosevelt, 
backed him up loyally, now and then exclaiming: 
"I wonder he does not wear himself out!" 

Roosevelt went to Washington to become a 
Civil Service Commissioner. I never understood 
his enthusiasm for that idea. By nature the 
man must see that the idea of securing the best 
service by giving preference to book-learning pro- 
ficiency and by routine promotion is Utopian. 
In practice, where he may exercise his untram- 
melled judgment, he acts often contrary to his 
theory. Some of the biggest fools I ever knew 
could pass the best examinations. It is all 
right to pass laws forbidding removals for political 
causes, and perhaps there is no other way of 
regulating appointments, but I will cite a single 
instance which has fallen under my observation. 

I firmly believe that the system of competitive 
examinations for appointments to West Point has 
resulted in producing a class of cadets far inferior 
to those secured b}^ taking the best and most 
promising boy a Congressman could find and 
sending him there regardless of his pre-eminence 
as a book-worm. Book-worm boys, as a class, 
are not the brightest, or the strongest, or the best 
material for soldiers. However, it was not my 
purpose to discuss the merits or demerits of civil- 
service examinations. I only referred to it because 
I consider it singular that a man with the peculiar 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 247 

temperament and characteristics of Theodore 
Roosevelt, and who, in practice, so negatives his 
theory, should have become a champion of civil- 
service rules as they are framed and applied. 

Roosevelt was soon afterward made Assistant 
Secretary of the Navy, and I know very little 
of his work there. The then Secretary of the 
Navy, ex-Governor Long of Massachusetts, was 
a colleague of mine in Congress. He is an 
able, polished, courteous man. But he is a 
gentleman tenacious of his own authority and 
position, and by no means disposed to be 
hustled by anybody. It is claimed by the 
enthusiastic friends of Roosevelt that, although 
in a subordinate position, he was the most potent 
force in the Navy Department, and that the con- 
dition of our Navy at the outbreak of the Spanish 
War was chiefly due to his efforts. I am sorry the 
claim has been made. I do not believe Roosevelt 
encouraged it, for I do not believe it was just. 
Governor Long was no figurehead in his position. 
He was a vigorous, capable man, and would have 
resented promptly the usurpation of his authority 
by any man. And Roosevelt himself would be the 
last man in the world to trench upon the preroga- 
tives of a worthy superior. I do not doubt that 
he did the work assigned to him with the vigour 
and efficiency which has always characterised his 
public service, and that is sufficient praise. 

Everybody knows the story of his prompt 



248 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

action in raising the Rough Rider Regiment 
when the Spanish War broke out. He showed 
his good sense, too, in not trusting too much to 
his shght mihtary knowledge, by having Leonard 
Wood made Colonel, while he accepted the place 
of Lieutenant-Colonel. 

Roosevelt is the sort of man who takes to 
military life as a duck does to water. Superior 
training does not keep inferior men above a man 
like him, in actual war. Such men use the the- 
oretical knowledge of superiors for their own 
instruction until they gain experience, and then 
climb right over their heads upon their own 
foundations. Once, talking with him since he 
became President, I remarked that when the Civil 
War broke out I was only fourteen years old, 
and had laid awake many a night fearing it might 
end before I had a chance as a soldier. He 
laughed and said: "I know the feeling. Many 
a time I've feared that before any fighting should 
arise I would be too old to volunteer." In a war 
like ours with Spain it is no easy matter for newly 
levied volunteers to gain recognition, much less 
preferment, among veteran regulars. Yet Roose- 
velt understood how to manage that. His con- 
ception of the quick levy of a cavalry regiment 
from plainsmen and reckless youngsters was 
original in design, and he put it into effect in a 
dramatic way. His command shouted and shot 
itself into notoriety by the time it was assembled 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 249 

at San Antonio, and was so full of aggressiveness 
that it was not safe to leave it unemployed. 
It was not to be a cavalry war, but Roosevelt 
pushed and clamoured for service at the front 
until the War Department no doubt felt it was 
easier to let him go than to try to hold him back. 
When it came to the detail for the Santiago 
campaign, any considerable cavalry contingent 
was out of the question. Only a few dismounted 
battalions were to accompany Shafter. The regu- 
lar cavalry at Tampa was by far the best fitted 
for the expedition. But Roosevelt had no idea of 
being left. It looked as though the Rough Riders, 
if denied participation in the expedition, would 
wade into the sea and try to swim to Cuba. Such 
was the forward spirit of Roosevelt and his men. 
So, one battalion, dismounted, of this untried com- 
mand, was permitted to accompany the expedition, 
to appease their ardour, and the men even fought 
among themselves on the question who should go. 
When they reached Cuba they were the same 
pushing, enterprising, dare-devil set, who had no 
idea that anything should happen without their 
being in the thick of it. So, pressing forward 
before the whole column was in motion, they 
bumped into the retiring Spaniards at La Guasi- 
mas, and received a blizzard that killed a dozen or 
more and warned them that they were just a 
trifle too independent and aggressive. Did this 
deter Roosevelt? Not a bit of it. He liked it! 



2 50 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

He and his men wanted another chance at them. 
His dash and recklessness caught the popular 
eye in that time of personal daring. He and his 
battalion were in the forefront with Wheeler at 
Santiago, and it was hard to keep them back. 
Not in a very soldierly way, but in a devil-may-care, 
dashing, fearless way, he led his men up Kettle Hill, 
and earned for them and for himself all the glory 
and all the eclat that was to be had out of that 
affair. His conduct gave him unusual prominence 
and endeared him greatly to New Yoj;Jcers, for it 
soothed their wounded vanity concerning another 
State command which had been unfortunate. 

Theodore Roosevelt, chiefly by his own push and 
insistence upon recognition, thus became the 
most prominent citizen soldier of the Empire State. 

Then came the days of delay and confusion, 
when supplies and ammunition were not sent 
forward from Siboney to the trenches. Some of- 
ficers lay in the trenches grumbling and waiting. 
Not so with Roosevelt. Dirty and dressed like a 
ditcher, with his blue-dotted neckerchief tied about 
his collarless throat, he left his men on the lines and 
walked or rode or trudged back to the landing at 
Siboney to demand his ammunition and his sup- 
plies. And there he wrangled and swore at ordnance 
officers, grabbed ammunition, bacon and hard 
tack, loaded it, urged teamsters, heaved at 
stalled wheels, and floundered back to camp with 
all the food and all the ammunition requisite, 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 251 

while others less enterprising awaited their turns. 
And New York was proud as the news of her stren- 
uous son came home from the seat of war. My 
eldest boy was then a Lieutenant in the 9th Regular 
Infantry. He had been detailed to make observa- 
tions at Shafter's Headquarters with his kites and 
aerial cameras, and was on the wharf at Siboney 
in search of his outfit when Colonel Roosevelt 
arrived upon the mission above described. He 
and Teddy are much the same sort of hustlers. 
There, chewing raw bacon in unison and mutually 
denouncing the inefficiency of others, they estab- 
lished a sworn friendship and admiration for each 
other which neither ever fails to express when the 
other is mentioned in his presence. 

"How is the little bantam game-cock?" says 
Roosevelt, recalling how the boy went up San Juan 
Hill with the 9th Infantry, photographing the 
Spaniards as he charged them. " How is Teddy, 
the Rough Rider? He's not afraid of anything, 
and as full of energy as a box of monkeys," says 
the boy, recounting Roosevelt's everlasting energy 
in battle and in bivouac. He was but one of 
ten thousand who marked the marvellous vitality 
of this enterprising soul. 

Then came the days of victory and waiting 
and sickness, the tropic heat of summer and the 
dangers of delay. Roosevelt saw the perils of the 
place. "Our work is done! Take us away!" 
he shouted. The slow-moving methods of the 



252 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

War Department did not suit them, but the veteran 
regular officers hesitated to protest. Not so 
with Roosevelt. It might not be according to 
routine and army regulations, but it was the 
urgent demand of humanity and common sense. 
"Our work is done! Take us away before 
disease fixes its fangs upon us and does what 
the Spaniards failed to accomplish," insisted 
Roosevelt, and he put the demand into the 
form of a "round robin," and urged and pressed 
it until it was signed by his hesitating brother 
officers. The appeal had its effect. The army 
was immediately transported from the pestilential 
air of Cuba to the healthful camps at Montauk 
Point, and thousands of men owe their lives to 
the boldness and vigour with which Roosevelt 
demanded the change. He landed there with his 
little battalion, for which, in his three months' 
service, he had won a place as distinct as that of 
the " Guides " of Napoleon or the " Black Horse 
Cavalry" of Lee. And the millions of New 
Yorkers who greeted his landing with pride and 
gratitude were waiting to make him Governor of 
the Empire State. 

Not so, however, with the few scheming political 
managers who call themselves "the organisation." 
The sudden and irresistible popularity of Roose- 
velt coming as it did, just when the nomination was 
to be made, utterly overthrew their plans for 
nominating and electing some nonentity who 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 253 

should be subservient to their "organisation." 
Roosevelt had never been a man of that kind. 
For a time they tentatively sought to avert the 
alternative and then, recognising the inevitable, 
they said under their breath and with closed teeth : 
" D — n him, we cannot prevent it. Let's make 
a virtue of necessity and support him." Then the 
organisation threw up its hat and cried: "Hurrah 
for Roosevelt!" and Roosevelt received the Re- 
publican nomination without apparent opposition. 
But Theodore knew, as well then as ever before or 
afterward, just how far to trust the sincerity of 
their professions. In the course of the campaign 
he and his friends had reason to suspect the good 
faith of the support he was receiving. It had 
happened before in the history of New York politics 
that honourable candidates of a party had been 
allowed to be defeated because the party hacks in 
charge of campaigns feared their dominancy if 
they should be elected, and found it more to their 
own advantage to have them slaughtered in the 
house of their friends. Roosevelt is not the man 
to fail to detect such a conspiracy, or to fail to 
fight it when detected. In the last days of the 
campaign he seized his imperilled standard in his 
own hands and made his own personal campaign. 
Appearing in all parts of the State in his rough- 
rider uniform, he made a series of electrifying 
speeches, and snatched victory from defeat. It 
was a glorious victory to his real friends, and 



254 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

the narrow margin showed that he had not taken 
his campaign into his own hands one moment too 
soon. No one will ever know the chagrin which 
certain so-called Republican leaders in New York 
felt at the election of Roosevelt; no one more 
thoroughly suspected their loyalty than did he, 
yet no one ever played the game of politics more 
adroitly; for he knew the dangers of a breach 
with them, and, without confessing his distrust, held 
them to their support of his Administration by 
recognising their legitimate claims to consideration. 
So it went on until the Presidential campaign of 
1900. There were inconsiderate friends of Gover- 
nor Roosevelt who thought he went too far in 
propitiating his enemies within his party. The 
event shows that he made no mistake. Certainly 
he did not succeed in reconciling them to his 
methods or gaining popularity with them. He was 
as irritating a thorn in their side as any Demo- 
crat could possibly have been. He was honest, 
and so long as he remained in the Governor's office 
he was a lion in the path, preventing and delay- 
ing many an old-time method in which they had 
delighted. Yet the people were at his back, 
and the problem of how to be rid of him was an 
ever recurring perplexity. At last absolution ap- 
peared. If they could not "turn him down," 
they could at least "turn him up." The Vice- 
Presidency, while it was a sinecure, was counted 
a high honour, and his elevation to it would rid 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 255 

his party associates of him at Albany. According- 
ly, the "Republican Gang" from New York went 
to the National Convention at Philadelphia shout- 
ing for Roosevelt's nomination to the second place, 
with the distinct and undisguised purpose of being 
rid of him as Governor of New York. I was 
present and heard them, and can recall the things 
said and the men who said them. They were 
contemptuous, resentful, abusive things, and they 
were said by men who have no views of their 
own, but get their inspiration from the bosses they 
serve and on whom they depend. Roosevelt 
understood their ptirposes and their calculations 
and their motives thoroughly. I have no doubt 
that it was as much from his stubborn wish to 
balk them in their uncomplimentary support as 
from some considerations more important that he 
at first refused and so long hesitated about ac- 
cepting. One thing is certain in my mind — that 
if the great majority of New York delegates who 
supported Roosevelt in the National Convention 
of 1900 for the Vice-Presidential nomination on 
the Republican ticket had had the faintest idea 
he would within a year succeed to the Presidency 
they would not have voted for him, even under 
the strongest inducement. When they returned 
their rejoicings were not over his nomination to 
the Vice-Presidency but over being rid of him 
as Governor. 

McKinley was young and well and strong 



256 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

There was no thought of such a thing as his as- 
sassination, and the average New York Repubhcan 
organisation man made no concealment of the 
clever trick they had resorted to, to rid themselves 
of an obnoxious Governor by placing him in a 
sinecure. The delegates returned to New York 
singing, " I guess that will hold him down awhile." 
No man understood better than did Governor 
Roosevelt the motive, the purpose, the temper of 
his nomination, or the men who planned it and 
brought it about. 

In the Vice- Presidential office he was a veritable 
Pegasus hitched to a plow. 

When the horrid crime which removed Mc- 
Kinley brought Roosevelt into the Presidential 
office, he came in under conditions hardly less 
trying than those imposed upon Tyler as suc- 
cessor of Harrison, and much more difficult than 
those attending Fillmore's or Arthur's succession. 
If Harrison's death was a great blow to Henry 
Clay, who had calculated so much upon Harrison's 
subjection to his dominancy, what must have been 
the blow of McKinley's death to Mark Hanna and 
his thoroughly entrenched coterie? 

When Harrison died Clay was not yet firm in his 
seat, and what he lost was what he had hoped 
for rather than what he had realized. When 
McKinley died, Mark Hanna's peculiar but force- 
ful plans had been in complete operation for 
four years; he had secured their endorsement for 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 257 

another term ; had tasted one lease of great power 
and influence to the full ; and was jiist preparing for 
another four years of even more thorough control. 
No matter how great or how dominant one may 
insist that McKinley was, no one questions that 
the days of McKinley were full of sunshine for 
Mark Hanna and his compact, thoroughly organised 
political machine. For nobody questions that 
Mark Hanna had a great machine, whether it was 
a good or a bad machine; or that he was the 
chauffeur, whether McKinley was owner or merely 
an honoured guest. And no machine ever had a 
harder or more sudden jolt on the highway of 
politics than did Mark Hanna's when McKinley 
died and Roosevelt mounted in his place. 

The world can never know what Mark Hanna 
and his political syndicate felt when McKinley 
died, or how in their inmost hearts they welcomed 
the advent of his successor, or how he in his inmost 
heart regarded them. 

He was and is a person altogether different in 
temperament, and in party associations, from 
McKinley. Andrew Johnson himself differed no 
more radically from Lincoln than did Roosevelt 
from McKinley. As for Mark Hanna and the 
style of political management known as Hanna- 
ism, which was synonymous with McKinley- 
ism, certainly Roosevelt had never theretofore 
operated upon such lines. The people loved 
McKinley; they seemed to have faith in Hanna 



2 58 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

and Hannaism. They were not prepared to give 
them up for any unknown and untried poHcy of 
Mr. Roosevelt. 

It is to the credit of Roosevelt and Hanna alike 
that both behaved admirably in a trying time; 
and both agreed that, continuing the personnel 
as well as the policy of McKinley's Administration, 
they would subordinate all antagonisms, disap- 
pointments and incongruities between them and 
strive together for the public good. It certainly 
was not a natural alliance. No two men that ever 
came together in politics had more irreconcilable 
view-points, ideals or standards, than did Theo- 
dore Roosevelt and Mark Hanna. How they 
succeeded in pulling together as well as they did 
for the common welfare during the three years 
after McKinley's death that Hanna lived is a 
wonder, and to the great honour of both of them; 
for while, in that time, McKinley's policies were 
adhered to, Hanna methods and Hanna dominancy 
and men of the type which Hanna chose in the 
day of his control under McKinley, rapidly gave 
place to Roosevelt methods, Roosevelt dominancy, 
and men of a very different type from those who 
flourished under Hanna. 

Whether the friendship between Roosevelt and 
Hanna could or would have survived the strain 
of these inevitable changes if Hanna had lived 
need not be discussed. Outwardly at least it did 
continue until Hanna died, and that is surprising 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 259 

enough to the general public, who had been taught 
to look upon Roosevelt as rash, and stubborn, 
and unyielding. I have watched him closely, and 
know that when any question vital to his support 
by his party followers arises, he is not rash, or 
stubborn, or unyielding. On the contrary, no 
man weighs more quickly or calculatingly which of 
two inconsistent plans it is best to yield in order to 
retain party support. And no man is more politic 
in not confessing that he abandoned one purpose 
in order to attain another. 

President Roosevelt, in the early days of his 
first administration, had a cherished purpose, 
about which he consulted with certain of his 
supporters, and he was discussing plans for carry- 
ing it out. His purpose and his plans were 
formed in ignorance of the fact that they trenched 
upon matters touching which Mark Hanna was 
peculiarly sensitive. It was a time when a graver 
issue was before the Senate, upon which the 
Administration had a very narrow^ margin and 
concerning which it was almost dependent upon 
Hanna's support, which until then it had received. 
The President's action in the matter first referred 
to stopped suddenly. His course became just 
the reverse of what his conversation had indicated 
it was to be. He dropped the subject, and wisely 
gave no reason for his change of policy. His 
Senate measures went through. It was a long 
time before those he consulted about the first 



26o RECOLLECTIONS OF 

matter, and who had been puzzled by his apparent 
vacillation, realised that Mark Hanna had warned 
him that if he did what he proposed he would 
force a breach and lose his support, and that then 
the President had promptly abandoned a cherished 
but not vital purpose to ensure the success of a 
more important measure. No man who has not 
occupied a public station or been close enough 
to those who do to watch them, can form any idea 
how little of free agency is left to the ablest and 
most dominant man in political office, or how they 
are forced to " cut their garment according to their 
cloth," else risk alienating indispensable support 
and destroying themselves by antagonising those 
without whom they have no hope of success. 

Andrew Johnson, naturally stubborn, and made 
the more so by dissipation, undertook to be 
reckless and defiant of his party leaders, but 
Theodore Roosevelt, temperate, ambitious, enter- 
prising, full of vitality, bold and stubborn in 
many things, understands as well as any man who 
ever was President just how far he may go, and 
just where the danger line is at which he must 
stop with the men who are to make or unmake his 
political fortunes. He has been singularly blessed, 
too, in the men by whom he has surrounded 
himself. In my opinion there has never been in 
the Cabinet of any President an abler, a wiser, or 
a more loyal counsellor, or one so well equipped 
in so many departments as Elihu Root. His 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 261 

Secretary of State, John Hay, grew and expanded 
every day from the time he entered pubhc 
service until he died, and his Secretary of War, 
Judge Taft, is a man of extraordinary capacity. 
I predict, with great confidence, that in his 
Cabinet will be found the Presidential successor of 
President Roosevelt. Elihu Root I have known 
for nearly twenty years, and whatever I might 
say of his legal abilities, of his intellectual power, 
of his strong, attractive, cautious, honest, high- 
minded, loyal public and private personality 
would be put down to the partiality of friendship. 
My acquaintance with Judge Taft began some 
fifteen years ago, in a case I had before him in 
Cincinnati, when he was a Judge in a State Court. 
I marked him then as an extraordinary man, and 
have witnessed his successive promotions to 
Solicitor General, United States Circuit Judge, 
Governor of the Philippines and Secretary of War 
with great pleasure, as vindicating my forecast 
of his future. Mr. Hay's growth somewhat sur- 
prised me, for I regarded him as in early life a 
narrow and provincial man — a prejudice derived 
from some unjust criticisms of my father in his 
" Life of Lincoln " ; but I am frank to admit that I 
accept the public estimate of Mr. Hay as a man of 
very remarkable talents and culture. No piece of 
oratory delivered in my day has surpassed, if it even 
equalled, the speech of John Hay upon McKinley, 
delivered before the two Houses of Congress. 



262 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

I oug t to state emphatically that in what I 
have written or shall add concerning President 
Roosevelt, I have violated no confidence of his, 
for he has never taken me into his confidence. 
Nor is anything I have said derived from or 
inspired by anything he has ever said to me about 
the things discussed. They are deductions and 
conclusions of my own mind concerning what a 
man of his acumen and intelligence must have 
seen and must have felt about matters and conduct 
the nature and inspiration of which was plain to 
everj'body. Our relations have always been ex- 
ceedingly friendly, but never intimate to the 
point that I would feel that in recounting them 
I was improperly drawing aside the curtain of 
privacy, and the general interest in the President 
is such that I feel justified in presenting him as he 
is. He is one of the most natural and unaffected 
men I ever knew, sometimes so even to the point 
of boyishness. I remember one day when I was 
with him at luncheon in the White House. The 
remarkable influence of the Dutch upon American 
institutions has been a fad with me for many 
years. For example, the Mecklenburg resolutions 
are largely plagiarised, or at any rate pursue the 
language of the first address of the States-General 
in Holland. And our flag is nearly like the flag of 
the Dutch Republic. And we adopted our school 
system from them, and our system of Prosecuting 
Attorneys, and I don't know what else. Years 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 263 

ago I delivered an address on the subject. When 
I began to talk about it Roosevelt intimated that 
I was only flattering him. I replied by telling 
him: "I knew and said these things when you 
were a boy." After luncheon he invited me to go 
with him to his office and examine some new 
German rifles. On arriving there we found some 
very obsequious Germans who, after profound 
bows, showed their weapons. The President was 
much pleased with the mechanism of the guns and, 
seizing one, worked it, threw it up to his shoulder, 
pointed it out of the window, clicked it, tested it, 
and finally, with the enthusiasm of a boy, passed 
it over to me for examination, exclaiming: "By 
George! Look at it! Ain't that 6w%.^ " I won- 
dered whether the Germans had ever heard the 
Kaiser talking about bully things. 

The thing that has pleased me most in my 
visits to Mr. Roosevelt is his relations with his 
children. When they are together they are all 
boys and girls and all Presidents. One day at 
luncheon young Teddy was deeply interested in a 
game. I proposed to teach them one that the 
player can win only once in a thousand times. 
So, after luncheon, on a big marble table in the 
hallway, the children and I had our fun, and I feel 
sure the President regretted as much as any of us 
that business prevented him from taking part in 
the sport. 

Another time when I called he had a great red 



264 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

abrasion upon his forehead which looked as if 
some one had sandpapered him. " What's that ? " 
said I. "Why, my horse," said he, with a strong 
quahfying adjective, " stuck his foot in a hole in a 
bridge and fell, nearly breaking my neck," and he 
laughed at it as if it was a good joke. "Too 
strenuous!" said L "Take this and it will cool 
your blood and keep you from riding so hard." I 
passed him a little bundle of sassafras bark which 
I had bought in the Washington market from an 
old coloured woman, intending to make sassafras 
tea of it, to remind me of the time when I was a 
boy in the country. " What is it ? It smells good," 
said he. I told him. "I'll take it and make some 
tea. Have no doubt it is good. ' ' He seldom forgets 
anything, and the next time I saw him reminded 
me of it and said every child in the house had had 
a try at it. 

When I want anything from President Roosevelt 
I can tell in a minute whether I will get it or not. 
I do not want much, but when I do I want it 
right away or not at all. So when we meet I am 
apt to say: "Mr. President, I want so and so." 
If he will not do it he says so, and that ends it. 
If he hesitates, I can generally tell by the questions 
he asks whether he will or will not .do it. If he 
says "All right," then I know it will be done and 
done quickly. On a certain occasion I asked him 
to help me have a friend retained in office. He 
agreed to do so, and at once called a stenographer 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 265 

and began to dictate. He was going so fast it 
nearly took my breath away. The things he 
began to dictate were all wrong. I began to cor- 
rect. We both exploded with laughter. " Here," 
said he, giving it up, "you dictate it. I'll sign it. 
Sign anything that does not involve me in paying 
any money," — and the business was done. 

Another time I went there and he asked me to 
tell him about a certain man he was considering 
for office. I spoke well of him. I thought he 
was probably going to act in a month or so. 
Imagine my surprise the following evening, on 
taking up the evening paper, at seeing that the 
man's name had been sent to the Senate even 
before my letter advising him to get endorsements 
had reached him. 

Napoleon in his palmiest days never insisted 
upon " Activite — Celerite — Activite" more strenu- 
ously than does Roosevelt. 

I never have exactly understood just why the 
President invited Booker Washington to lunch with 
him, nor do I care. I think the Southern people 
have made themselves ridiculous about it and 
given it an importance that is absurd. It is 
almost impossible to discuss a question like that 
without being misapprehended. I do not care 
what one's views on the subject may be, there 
are circumstances under which a man, however 
prejudiced, may find himself in a position in 
which to raise a point like that would give it 



266 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

undue importance and render himself absurdly 
conspicuous. I do happen to know that President 
Roosevelt is not an advocate of social equality. 
Know it from things which he has said so often in 
public that the same things said in private would 
not be confidential. Suppose that in his public 
position as President of the United States he feels 
that it is not below his dignity, but quite in the 
line of his duty, upon meeting a distinguished, 
good and representative man of the black race, not 
to discriminate against him on accotmt of his 
colour but to pay him the same compliment of 
entertainment that he pays to distinguished white 
men every day. Now if the man had been an Indian 
nobody would have criticised it. The Presidents 
have been entertaining Indians from the time of 
Andrew Jackson. It does not mean anything but 
what it is. A public courtesy, a passing insignifi- 
cant courtesy. To deny it would certainly be a 
pointed discrimination against him. All one can 
say is that he would have made the discrimination. 
Grant it. Suppose he would have done so. 
Still, is it a thing of such vital importance that we 
must have an irreconcilable feud, prejudice and 
hatred against a gentleman admirable in other 
respects for having differed with u-s on so trivial 
a matter? By making the point do we not give 
the incident an importance, a significance, an 
effect far beyond that to which it is entitled ? 
I noticed that in Richmond not long ago, and 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 267 

long since the Booker Washington episode, Mr. 
R. C. Ogden was royally entertained by the 
representative people of the city — by the very 
people who were most bitter in their denunciation 
of the President for entertaining Booker Washing- 
ton. It is proper that the Richmond people should 
have entertained Mr. Ogden. He is a most 
worthy private citizen. He is rich and philan- 
thropic, and deeply interested in educational ques- 
tions, especially questions pertaining to the 
education of the negro. But Mr. Ogden certainly 
has views upon the subject of social equality much 
more radical than any entertained by President 
Roosevelt. Mr. Ogden receives and entertains 
Booker Washington as an honoured guest in his 
private house. He goes to Mr. Ogden's and re- 
mains days at a time. He sleeps in Mr. Ogden's 
beds, and sits at the table with the family, and 
conducts family prayers, and does all the things 
which any white guest might do ; and one might 
talk to Mr. Ogden for the remainder of his life 
without exciting in his mind the slightest prejudice 
against Booker Washington or making him feel 
that there is any sense in our race prejudices. I 
say our race prejudices because I confess frankly 
that I am a Southern man and have race preju- 
dices, and that it is altogether likely that if I had 
been in President Roosevelt's place I would no 
more have invited Booker Washington to lunch 
with me than would have others. I confess 



2 68 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

it. It may be a weakness and a prejudice, but it 
is one I cannot control any more than I can master 
other prejudices that control me. And anyone 
is welcome to all the comfort he can get out of that 
confession. But what I do not understand and 
what I want my Southern brother, with a common 
prejudice, to explain to me is this: How is it 
and why is it that they ignore, or overlook, or con- 
done Mr. Ogden's private practice of social 
equality and entertain him, but grow frantic 
about the formal recognition of Booker Washington 
by President Roosevelt, and even refuse to support 
his party for that reason, often at the same time 
agreeing with its principles ? Now is it not making 
a mountain out of a mole-hill? jLet me whisper 
something in their ears that will show what an 
unnecessary excitement this is. You do not 
believe that Governor Montague of Virginia 
favours social equality, do you ? Surely you ought 
not to think so, for you remember that he pro- 
claimed the new Constitution which disfranchised 
all the negroes without submitting it to the people 
as was promised. Now you remember that 
Governor Montague has been placed by Mr. Ogden 
on his Board of Trustees of Tuskegee College; 
that he attends the meetings of that Board; 
that he is often thrown into association with the 
president of the college, Booker Washington. 
Some day slip up quietly to him and ask him to 
look you in the eye and tell you truthfully whether 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 269 

in his numerous visits to Tuskegee and elsewhere, 
on business of the college with his old friend 
Ogden, he has sat at the table with Booker Wash- 
ington or other black men. I do not say it is so, 
but if it is not so, there has been a great amount 
of managing to avoid it. If it be so, how absurd 
you will feel when you find that leading repre- 
sentative men in the party which has raised 
all this hue and cry against the President have 
been doing the very thing for which you 
have been abusing him and by which you have 
been wrought up to such an excitement. And 
whether these things have been done or not, 
how absurd it is to consider them as having any 
bearing whatever upon the great question of 
social equality. Nobody can fix a hard-and-fast 
rule for another whereby to judge him by a single 
act. Circumstances alter cases. Finally, is it 
not a reflection upon the intelligence of the 
Southern people that they permit themselves to 
be lashed into feverish excitement by so small an 
affair. Viewed simply from the standpoint of his 
personal popularity for the time being, President 
Roosevelt's act was unwise, and as it was also 
unnecessary it may have been impolitic from a 
political standpoint, for just at that time he 
undoubtedly had caught the eye of the South, and 
the Southern people were preparing to give him 
a support which, although it was qualified, was 
far more enthusiastic than that they had accorded 



2 70 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

to any of his Republican predecessors, even to 
McKinley, who had made a decided impression on 
the SoHd South. Truth was, they were ashamed 
of their support of Bryan and sick of Democratic 
broken promises. Roosevelt, half a Southerner 
himself, has many characteristics that captivate 
them. They like his books about hunting and 
his hustling, open-air ways. They are proud of his 
Rough Riders. They saw him riding into danger 
with the dash and recklessness of a Southern 
cavalryman. They read his glorious tribute to 
Robert E. Lee. They believe he is honest and 
broad-minded himself, and intends to be President 
of the whole Nation, frown on sectionalism, and 
demand honesty and capacity from his appointees. 
Within my own knowledge clubs were forming, in 
sections theretofore solid in opposition, composed 
of men who never theretofore voted the Republican 
ticket, to be called Roosevelt Clubs and organized 
upon the basis of non-partisan support of Roose- 
velt because of his high principles and broad 
policies. Of course that was the entering wedge 
for breaking up the blighting insanity of their 
past subservient allegiance to anything bearing 
the name of Democracy. And the Southern 
Bourbon leaders were thoroughly alarmed about 
the movement. I was delighted at the prospect, 
and was quietly working like a beaver to bring 
abotit the result outlined above. But great 
results are of times thwarted by very little things. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 271 

I remember seeing a fine negro ball in a barn 
broken up on a certain occasion by the appearance 
of a very small polecat. He was roused from his 
winter resting place by the furious dancing on the 
floor. Nobody expected him, but he came, and 
after he came the company departed, and not 
even the tempting odours of roast pig and country 
satisage could induce the dusky company to 
return to the feast. By the time the intruder 
was disposed of, the original purposes of the 
gathering were lost sight of amid the lingering 
perfumes of the unexpected guest. I need hardly 
point the moral of this story. 

If the President had ever taken me into his 
confidence I would not now venture to say that 
I feel sure he has many times realised that the 
episode was unfortunate; but he has had the good 
sense not to make any admission about it. 

There is one thing about Roosevelt. He can 
fall down and get up again, and then go faster 
than the average man who never stumbles. 

His apprehension is as keen and quick as that 
of any man I ever saw. His apparent impatience 
with some people is not impatience. It arises 
from the fact that he often understands a matter 
before the person stating it thinks he has made it 
comprehensible . 

The President is charged with having one fault 
that many men regard as a virtue, to wit, a 
partiality for his friends and an overestimate of 



272 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

their abilities. The most notable instance gener- 
ally cited is his promotion of Leonard Wood. 
Even that has two sides to it. It may be conceded 
that General Wood is not a man of such pre- 
eminent worth and capacity that, without the 
partiality of the appointing power, he would 
have been promoted as he was. It may likewise 
be conceded that his promotion over the heads of 
many other deserving men was a hardship upon 
them and was inconsiderate of their fair expecta- 
tions. But the first promotion of Wood was by 
McKinley, whose family physician he was. When 
the question came to Roosevelt it was not one of 
first impression. Let any man who is disposed to 
blame Roosevelt for what he did consider his 
relation to Wood. To have refused to do what 
he did would have been worse than doing nothing. 
It would have been to refuse a true and tried friend 
a recognition of rights conferred by a predecessor ; 
to actually turn him down and turn him back. Let 
any man who knows the bond and the power of old 
army friendships consider this before he blames 
Roosevelt. If he is partial to old friends it is a 
venial weakness. Many a politician has been 
wrecked by ingratitude, but few have been punished 
for loyalty to friends. Not many men in his posi- 
tion have such a number of warm personal friends 
that their advancement imperils the public service, 
and the generous American people have always 
condoned this tendency in their public men. 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 273 

President Roosevelt has, in my opinion, one 
grave defect. A defect which may not weaken 
his personal strength, because he has declared that 
he will not be a candidate for reelection, but which 
tends to the injury of the party which he ought 
to protect. He admits to his councils, and is 
advised by and apparently follows sometimes, the 
advice of men who are not Republicans or even 
representatives of any political ideas. It is a 
mistake on his part to think that because they are 
congenial socially, or intelligent, or have other 
tastes in common with him, he ought to invite their 
views, or at any rate be guided by their views, on 
political questions. If they are anything politi- 
cally they are mere doctrinaires, without political 
influence or following or title to political consid- 
eration, and if he listens to their views he will 
soon find himself advocating political something- 
nothings to the injury of his party supporters. 
He will lose in his own party, and gain nothing in 
the opposition, by admitting such men into his 
political confidence. 

God has made him an extraordinary man, with 
views far more catholic, perhaps, than those of his 
party or his supporters. But he is not likely to 
meet many other men whose views are as enlarged 
as his own, or whose opinions are apt to be as 
valuable. He cannot hope to build up a new 
party with them, and as he cannot he must be 
content with having his own party as large and 



2 74 RECOLLECTIONS OF 

broad as he can make it with his own material. 
When he takes counsel from outsiders he is running 
the risk of mingling incompatible elements to the 
detriment of both. A man of his worldly wisdom 
will not take long to discover this; for, with all 
his wonderful abilities and great triumphs and 
daily improvement, he is still young, with much 
to learn. 

That he is possessed of a strong, powerful intel- 
lect; a virility which as yet feels no decline; an 
ambition that aspires to all that is honourably 
possible, and an honesty that endears him to his 
countrymen is admitted by everyone. 

Sometimes the action of President Roosevelt 
upon newly arisen issues has been so sudden, so 
decisive, so radical, that members of his own party 
have been startled and even irritated at his 
apparent impulsiveness. A notable instance of 
this was his almost immediate recognition of the 
Panama Revolutionary Government. In that 
case it did, at first blush, seem as if he was too 
impetuous. Yet, when the public came to under- 
stand the whole situation, I think it unanimously 
agreed that the President's action was fully 
justified, and that his celerity obviated a number 
of embarrassing and perhaps expensive complica- 
tions which would have arisen under a less de- 
cisive course. As it has turned out, the American 
people have attained their great object, an Isth- 
mian Canal, in the time which would, under a less 



THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 275 

virile Executive, have been consumed in wrangling 
over preliminaries. 

The talk about Roosevelt's imperialistic ten- 
dencies is mere rival party babble of discontent. 
It is the same that people indulged in concerning 
Andrew Jackson, and Lincoln, and Grant. Some 
of it springs from the eternal jealousy of the Op- 
position, some of it from timid natures who are 
always alarmed at the way in which bold natures 
accomplish things in a direct, aggressive way. 
But there never was a more thorough-paced 
democrat than Roosevelt. The secret of his 
strength with the people is that he is so democratic 
and such a believer in popular rights. No man 
in America would be more fierce or aggressive 
than Roosevelt against an attempt by anybody 
against popular liberty. But he believes that 
popular liberty is not synonymous with delay and 
doubt and endless quibbling, and that the people's 
servants ought to do the people's will promptly and 
thoroughly, and not crawl up to and wriggle around 
and climb over or scratch under new questions 
which arise and must arise in every government 
like ours. His fearlessness in grappling with and 
disposing of new questions, and his relying upon 
the people to endorse him, instead of keeping such 
questions open until they fester, is one great secret 
of his popular strength, and the masses have 
faith unshaken in his true American democratic 
instincts and purposes. 



2 76 THIRTEEN PRESIDENTS 

No man has ever left the Presidential chair so 
young and still so full of the thirst for life's activi- 
ties as he will be when his term ends. It is 
food for curious speculation to endeavour to 
forecast his future after his term shall have ended. 

Nothing political remains to be achieved by 
him. What else will he attempt ? Nobody knows. 
But in America there is always something for 
everybody to do or to attempt. 

Knowing Roosevelt well, having studied him 
carefully, having oftentimes been startled and 
sometimes irritated by him, yet respecting him 
always and having faith in his true democracy ; 
finally, admiring him sincerely, and being deeply 
attached to him for his fidelity and fearlessness, 
my feeling for him is as near to love as one man 
should have for another, and my faith in his 
future is unbounded, because I know he is that 
"noblest work of God — an honest man.' ' 



INDEX 



Acquia Creek, (Va.), 6o. 

Adams, John J., 156, 157. 

Adjutant-General's office, ori- 
gin of conflicts with Comdg- 
General, 88. 

African Slave Trade, efforts to 
suppress the, 21. 

Age of a Boy, how computed, 
67. 

Alger, Gen. Russell A., 201, 
202, 227, 228, 229. 

"Aliunde Joe," 135. 

Allison, Senator, 218. 

Anderson, Col. Archer, 8g. 

Argument, the Southern, about 

disunion, 69, 70. 
Aristocracy," the, hateful to 
Andrew Johnson, loi. 

Arthur, Chester A., while Gar- 
field was dying, 150; picture 
154; loyalty to party friends, 
159, 162; contempt for scala- 
wags, 162, 163; wordly know- 
ledge and savoir faire, 163, 
164; his dinners, 164; true 
hospitality, 164, 165; dis- 
appointment at not being 
renominated and death, 167; 
always a gentleman, 167. 

Atherton, of N. H., friend of 

Pierce, 39. 
Attorney-General, some talk 
about, 223. 



Barnes, Wm., (N. Y.), 222. 

Benedict, E. C, 187. 

Benton, Miss, Mrs. Fremont, 

^55- 

Bell, John, of Tennessee, 102. 

Binney, Horace, 10, 21. 

Bisseil, Postmaster-General, 

177, i79> 183. 
Blackburn, Joe, (Kentucky), 

Blaine, James G., 165, 166. 
167, 201, 203, 204. 

Bland, R. P., (Missouri), 156. 

Bliss, Cornelius N., 222. 

Blues, Richmond Light In- 
fantry, 140. 

Boggs, Major Francis J., 86. 

Bond, Judge Hugh L., 120, 122 

Botts, Jno. Minor, 17. 

Bowen, Henry, (Va.), 158. 

Bragg, General Braxton, 88, 89. 

Brazilian Mission to Wise, 21. 

Breckenridge, Clifton, 156. 

Breckenridge, John C., 54, 55, 
84- 

Bright, of Indiana, 40. 

Brookfield, Wm., 222. 

Brown, John, 70. 

Brunswick Hotel, (N. Y.), 243. 

Bryan, Wm. Jennings, 219,220. 

Buchanan, James, 36, 52, 64. 
"Buck & Breck," 55. 

Bullock, Colonel, 243. 

Butler, of N. Y., 36. 

Butler, B. F., 189. 



Baltimore, 60. 

Barbour, John S., (Va.), 156, 
i59- 



Cabell, Geo., 156, 159. 
Cadwalader, Gen, John, 40. 
Cadwalader, Jno. L., 221. 
Campaign of 1832 10, 11, 12. 



278 



INDEX— Con//n«^^ 



Campaign of 1856, 54, 

Camp Lee, 85. 

Cannon, "Uncle" Joe, 157. 

Capes of Virginia, 3. 

Carlisle, Hon. Jno. G., 155. 

Cartoons, political, in cam- 
paigns, 54. 

Carroll, Howard, 222. 

Cass, Lewis, 40. 

Charles City Co., (Va.), 27, 28. 

Chase, Salmon P., 70. 

Cherrystone (Va.), 3. 

Chesapeake Bay, 3. 

Chickahominy, the, 76, 77. 

Civil Service discussion, 246. 

Clay, Henry, 8, 9, 10, 11, 16, 
19, 102, 256. 

Clay, Mrs. C. C, 49. 

Cleveland, Grover, picture, 170; 
election, 171 ; we get acquain- 
ted, 172, 173; a love feast, 
173; the deaf mute, 173, 182; 
as a companion and sports- 
man, 186; the man as he is, 
187, 190. 

Clifford, of Maine, friend of 
Pierce, 39. 

Clover Depot, (Va.), 89. 

Coalition of 1840, what, 7, 8. 

Cold Harbor, 85. 

CoUis, Gen. C. H. T., 222. 

Colored defection from Sher- 
man, 202. 

Columbia, frigate, 43. 

Commanding-General and Ad- 
jutant-General's office, origin 
of controversy between, 88. 

Conestogo, Valley of, 58. 

Congressional meanness to Ty- 
ler, 23. 

Congressman, 155. 

Conkling, Roscoe, 146. 

Conrad, Holmes, 184, 

Constitution, The, 42, 43. 

Corbin, Gen. Henry C, 89. 



Corporal Billy Gilliam's fun- 
eral, 187. 
"Corporal's Guard," 18, 
Corps of Cadets, V. M. L, 84. 
Cox, Sunset, 156. 
Crazy Quilt, 218. 
Crook, Col. Wm. H., 141. 
Cruger, S. V. R., 222. 
Cuba, 249. 

Curtin, Gov. A. G., Penn., 156. 
Curtis, Geo. William, 166, 167. 
Cushing, Caleb, 38, 39, 40. 

D 

Dalziel, Mr., 242. 
Danville, (Va.), 86, 90. 
Davis, Jefferson, 40, 68, 74, 75, 
79, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 

94, 95, 96. 

Davis, Mis. Jefferson, 94, 95. 

Davis, John B's. bull, 183. 

Day, Wm. R., 214. 

Dayton, candidate for Vice- 
President 1856, 54. 

Deaf-mute postmaster, 174. 

Democrats rejoice at Tyler's 
troubles, 18. 

Democratic majority in 48th 
Congress, 155. 

Dents, The, 124. 

Depew, Chauncey M., 173. 

Dickinson, of N, Y., aspirant 
for President 1852, 36, 40. 

Dissolution of Union, first heard 

of, 43- 

Dockery, of Mo., 156 

Donaldson, A. J., 54, 56. 

Donner, J. O., 242. 

Douglas, Hugh, Andrew John- 
son's ffiend, 105, 107, 109. 

Douglas, Stephen A. 40, 224. 

Down-town Club, 243. 

Drayton, Coleman, 242. 

Drill-master, 86. 



INDEX— Continued 



279 



E 

Elberon, where Garfield died, 
148. 

Electoral commission an un- 
fortunate device, 135. 

Elliot, Mortimer F., 156, 157. 

Evarts, Wm, M., 140. 



Farmville, (Va.), 90. 
Federal Democrat, Andrew 

Jackson, 103. 
Fillmore, Millard, 54, 55, 256. 
Fish, James D., 123. 
Fisherman's Inlet, 3. 
Fishing trips, 3. 
Fitz, John Porter, 77, 215. 
Flag, American, copied from 

Dutch, 262. 
Florence, Wm. J., 221. 
Floyd, Gen. Jno. B., 2. 
Food Scarce, drink a plenty at 

White House, 25, 26. 
Foraker, J. B., 171, 204, 222. 
Fortress Monroe, 4, 91. 
"Four Hundred" — How we 

served them, 243. 
" Frank Pierce will spread 

durned thin," 48. 
Fremont, Gen. Jno. C, 54. 
French, clerk. House of Reps., 

French mission, 21, 

French, Steve, 150. 

Fry, Col. Horace B., 150. 



"Gallant Harry of the West," 

II. 
Gardner, beautiful Julia, Mrs. 

Tyler, 21, 22. 
Garfield, James A., picture, 

144; appearance, 145, 146; 



row with Conkling, 146; cod- 
dling political enemies, 146; 
queer stories about him, 147; 
assassination, 148; dying 
scenes at Elberon, 148 to 151. 

Garfield, Mrs., 22. 

Garfield row — none for Mc- 
Kinley, 225. 

Garnett, Dr. A. Y. P., 45, 46, 

47. 89- 
Garrison, George T. (Va.), 156, 

158, 159- 
General Staff, why formed, 88. 
Gentleman, what constitutes 

one in America, a question, 

167. 
George, Col. P. R., President 

Pierce's friend, 35, 39, 41. 
Gilmer, Secretary, killed, 22. 
Glad I sided with the South, 

72. 73- 
GofF, Nathan, 157, 223, 224. 
Gracie, Mr. Archibald, 243. 
Gracie, General, 243. 
Grant, George De Forest, 242. 
Grant, Gen. Fred Dent, 124, 

245- 

Grant, Gen. U. S., picture, 114; 
referred to, 84; first meeting, 
115; very democratic man- 
ners, 116; very inquisitive, 
116; the distillery case, 112; 
Grant and Ward, 122; my 
father and Grant, 123, 124; 
on Confederate leaders, 125; 
changes in his fortune, 126- 
7-8; feeling to Confederates 
128, 129, 275. 

Grant, Mrs. Gen, U. S., 123; 
124. 

Gray, Judge, 122. 

Greeley, Horace, 70, 95. 

Greenville, Tennessee, 105. 

Gresham, Walter Q., 20l, 203, 
204. 



28o 



INDEX— Continued 



H 

Hamilton, Robt. Ray, 243. 

Hampton (Va.), 4, 5. 

Hanna, Mark, 256, 257, 258. 

Hanover Junction, 85. 

Hardee, General, 88. 

Harris, Mr., of Va., 36, 39. 

Harrison's Landing, 94. 

Harrison, Burton, N., 79. 

Harrisons, the Virginia, 195, 
196, 197. 

Harrison, Benjamin, 171, 173, 
174; picture, 194; first ac- 
quaintance, 195; some Har- 
rison traits, 196; his antece- 
dents and appearance, 197-8; 
peculiarities, 198, 191 ; how 
nominated, 204; appreciation, 

205, 206; visit to his home and 
how he carved turkey, 206; 
sends my boy to West Point, 

206, 207; Mrs. Harrison's 
death, 207, 208. 

Harrison, Russell, 244. 

Harrison, Gen. Wm. H., 7, 8, g, 
II, 12, 14, 15, 16, 18, 256. 

"Hasty plate of soup," Gen- 
eral Scotts', 42. 

Hatch, Wm. H., Missouri, 156. 

Havre, de Grace, 59, 117. 

Hay, John, 261. 

Hays, Gen. "Billy," of the 100 
guns, 92, 93, 94. 

Hayes, President R. B.; pic- 
ture, 132, 133, 136, 137; Mrs. 
Hayes, 138, 139; Webb Hayes 

"Head Captain Tyler or die," 

John Minor Botts, 17. 
Heckscher, John, 242. 
Heintzelman, General, 77. 
Henderson, David B., 157. 
Hepburn, W. P., 157. 
Herbert, Hilary A., 156. 



Herrick, Myron, T., 221. 

Hewitt, Abram S., 156. 

Higgins, Anthony, 242. 

Higgins, Jno. C, 242. 

High Bridge, Va., 86. 

Hiscock, Frank, 157. 

Hobart, Garret A., 222. 

Holman, of Ind., 156. 

Hood, Gen. Jno. B., 87. 

Hooper, Benj. S., 158. 

Hopkins, Capt. Stephen, 42. 

How McKinley became a ma- 
son, 215. 

Hoyt, Jas. H., 221. 

Huger, Gen. B., 76. 

Hughes, Judge Robt. W., 119, 
120. 

Hunter, R. M. T., 40. 

Hygeia Hotel, 4. 



Ingersoll's blunder, 203. 
Ingersoll, Col. Robt. G., 189, 

202. 
Irving, Henry, 220, 221. 



Jackson, Andrew, 18, 102, 103, 

275- 

Jackson, Stonewall, 79, 84. 

James River, 4. 

Jamestowm, 5, 182. 

Jefferson, Jos., 220. 

Jim the butler, 3. 

Johnson, Andrew, picture, lOO; 
his career, loi, 102; social 
conditions in Tennessee, 104. 
struggles ^upward, 105, 107; 
how Southerners regarded 
him, 107-8; at my wedding, 
109-110; his compliments to 
my father, no; his habits, 
257, 260. 



INDEX— Continued 



281 



Johnston, Gen. Joseph E., 76, 

87, 125. 
Jones, Congressman, 178 179, 

184,185. 
Judas Iscariot Tyler, 16. 

K 

Kean, John, 157. 
Kelley,Wm. D. (PJg-Iron), 158. 
Keyes, P. M., Genl., 137, 140. 
Kickotan, Indian name for 

Hampton, 5. 
King, vice-president, 42. 
Know-nothings, 56, 94, 110. 
Kohlsaat. Mr., 222. 



La Guasemas, jolted hard at, 

249- 
Lally, Major, President Pierce's 

friend, 37. 
Lamb, Jno., of Indiana, 156. 
Lane, Miss Harriet, 58, 59. 
Lee, Gen. Fitzhugh, 243. 
Lee, Genl. Robt. E., 82, 87, 88 

90, 125, 270. 
Lewis, L. S., 119. 
Lexington, (Va.), 84. 
Libbey, Harry, (Va.), 158. 
Lincoln, Abraham, 67, 68, 88, 

101,257,273. 
Livingston, Carroll, 243. 
"Lions of the 40's falling 

asleep," 31. 
Lomax, Col., Tenant, 76. 
Lodge, Henry Cabot, 166, 167. 
"Looseanner wuz fur Blaine, 

but," 204. 
Long Branch, 115, 148, 150. 
Long, John D., 247. 
Longstreet, Genl. James, 82, 

243- 
Lorillard, Pierre, 242. 
Lyons, Hon. James, 96. 
Lyons, James, Jr., 148. 



M 

Mackay, Jno. W., 173, 220. 

Mails, how transported in 50's, 
42. 

Malvern Hill, 94. 

Manassas, battle of, meeting 
between Mr. Davis and Gen- 
eral Jackson, 79, 84. 

Marcy, Wm. L., 36, 40. 

Martin, Mr., of Va., 36. 

Mason, James M., 36. 

Masonry in war times, 215, 
216. 

Mason, Jno. Y., 23, 58, 

Mattoax, Va., 86. 

Maxwell, Assistant Postmaster- 
General, 177, 178. 

Mayo, Col. Robt., 158. 

Mechanicsville, Va., 77. 

Mecklenburg Resolutions, 262. 

Methods of travel in 1856, 159. 

Miles, Gen. Nelson A., 89. 

Mills, Rogers Q. (Texas), 156. 

Montague, Governor, 268. 

Montauk Point, 252. 

Morrison, Wm. R., 155. 

Morton, Levi P., 221. 

More cannon than men, 86. 

Mosby, John S., 129. 

Munn, H. N., 242. 

Munn, O. D., 221. 

McAdoo, Wm., 157. 

McClellan, Genl. Geo. B., 76. 

McComas, of Maryland, 158. 

McElroys, the, 164* 

McGuire, Dr. Hunter, 79-84. 

McMillan, Benton, 156. 

McKinley, Wm., 157,190,201; 
picture, 212; first met, 213; 
his friend Schaefer, 214; 
Wm. R. Day — how he be- 
came a mason, 216; peace- 
maker, 216; turned out, 217; 



282 



INDEX— Continued 



McKinley, Wm., — Continued. 
joke on him, 217; eavesdrop- 
pers, 219; as an orator, 219; 
in New York, 220; a memo- 
orable supper, 220; nomina- 
tion, 222; visit to him and 
the gold plank, 222; Mrs. 
McKinley, 224; Piatt's sup- 
port, 226; McKinley's weak 
points, 228, 229; kindness 
and amiability, 230; Bluff 
Point, 231; death, 233, 255, 
256, 272. 

N 

Nashville (Tenn.), 106. 

Nat. Rep. Convention, 1884, 

166. 
Nat. Rep. Convention, 1888, 

201, 218. 
Nat. Rep. Convention, 1896, 

222. 
Nat. Rep. Convention, 1900, 

255- 
Navy, Asst.-Secy. Roosevelt, 

247- 
Nelson, Knute, 157. 
New Market, 84. 
Newport News, 4. 
New York, 122, 172, 206, 241, 

250, 251. 
Norfolk, 4, 76. 
Northampton Co. (Va.), 3. 
North Anna River, 85. 



Gates, Wm. C. (Ala.), 156. 
Obsession and possession, 68. 
Ochiltree, Tom, 158, 173, 220. 

"O. D.," 183. 
O'Ferrall, Chas. T., 156, 158, 

I59-. 
Offensive partisan, 183. 
Ogden, Robt. C, 267, 268, 269. 



"Old Fuss-and-feathers," 42. 
Old Point, 4, 91. 
Overseer of roads, Mr. Tyler, 
27. 



Packer, Wm. F., 43. 

Panama Revolutionary Govt., 

274. 
Parker, Judge Richard, 215. 
Paul, Jno., 158. 
Payne, Sereno, 158. 
Peace-maker, the bursting of, 

21. 
Peachy, Wm. S., 12, 13, 15, 16, 

23, 24. 
Peninsula between York and 

James, 4, 76. 
Pennsylvania, when she was 

democratic, 53. 
Perryville, 60. 
Phelps, Wm. Walter, 158. 
Philadelphia, 8, 9, 10, 1 1, 20, 28, 

29.30, 50,59.61, 115. 
Philadelphia lawyer, 10. 
Phoebus, 4. 
Phoebus, Hotel 91. 
Phoebus, Harrison, 91, 92. 
Pierce, Franklin, 34, 35, 49. 
Piatt, Thos. C, 146, 221, 223. 

225, 227. 
Police Board Rows, 245. 
Polk, James K., 21. 
Porter, Gen. Horace, 220. 
Possession and Obsession, 68. 
Postmaster, a deaf mute, 174. 
Presidents, list of, and dates, 

and preface, v, vi, vii. 
Princeton, frigate, 21. 
Proctor, Red field, 204. 
Pryor, Roger A., 173. 
Putman, Judge, 47. 

Q 

Quay, Mat, 218. 



INDEX— Continued 



283 



R 

Railroads, none about Old 

Point in 50's, 4. 
Randall, Josiah, 157. 
Randall, Saml. J., 155, I57- 
Randolph, Genl. Wallace F., 

Ranney, A. A., 158. 
Ray, Geo. W., 158. 
Raymond, Chas. H., 242. 
Reagan, Jno. H., Texas, 156. 
Rebel, no apologies, 73. 
Reed, Thos. B., (Maine), 157. 
Renchor, Abram., 40. 
Rice, Gov. W. W. (Mass.), 

158. 
Richmond, a hotbed of Know- 
nothings, 56. 

Richmond & Danville R. R. 
defences, 86. 

"Rolleston," 75. 

Rosecrans, General, 156. 

Rough-riders formed, 248. 

Root, Elihu, 220, 232, 260. 

Roosevelt, Elliott, 241 , 243,244. 

Roosevelt, Robert, 241. 

Roosevelt, Theodore, 103, 166, 
167, i7i,237»276. 



"Safe m the Arms of Jesus," 

Garfields' requiem, 151. 
Sailor's Creek, 90. 
San Antonio, Rough-riders at, 

249- 
Santiago, 250. 
Schaefer, Louis, 213. 
Scott, Gen. Winfield, 41, 88. 
Scott, Rev. Dr., President 

Harrison's father-in-law, 195. 
Seigel, Gen. Franz, 844. 
Sergeant, John, 8, 9, 10, 11, 20, 

28,29,30,53, 157- 
Sergeant, John, Jr., 157. 



Sergeant, Wm., 53,59,61,157. 
Seven Pines, 75. 
Seward, Wm. H., 70. 
Shafter, General, 251. 
Sherman, John, 140, 201, 202. 
Sherman Gen. Wm. T., 88, 173. 
Sherwood Forest, 27. 
Siboney, 250. _ 

Slavery, the feeling about it m 
the South, 69, 70. 

Sleeping cars not known, 60. 

Slocum, Gen. H. W., 156. 

Smith, Elliott, 242. 

Smith, John, 5. 

Snipe-shootmg for Cleveland, 

. 181. 

Soldiers Home, (Hampton), 4. 

Soldiers Home, (Washington), 

137- 
Sorrel, Gen. G. M.., 243, 244; 
"Sorter so and sorter not so," 

" Spoils system, 7. 
Spottsylvania to Cold Harbor, 

85- 
Springer, Wm. M., 111., 150. 
Staunton River, Va., 86. 
Stoker, Bram. 220. 
St. Louis, Convention, (1896), 

222. 

Stonewall Jackson, 80. 
Stonewall, Division, 85. 
Strawberry Hill, 77, 78. 
Supreme Court, 20, 2i, 135. 
Susquehanna River, 59. 
Sutherlin, Maj. Wm. T., 89. 



Taft, Wm. H., 261; talks poli- 
tics too much, 183. 
Tampa, Rough-riders at, 249. 
Taylor, Gen. Zachary, 88. 
Third Alabama Regiment, 75. 

76, 77- 



f??// 



284 



INDEX— Continued 



4y. 



Thompson, Miss, friend of 

Pierce, 39. 
Thompson, Richd., of -Indiana, 

218. 
Tilden, Samuel J., 134, 135. 
"Tippecanoe and Tyler too," 

8, 17. 
"To the victors belong the 

spoils," 17. 
Too late for promotion, 95. 
Tucker, Rev.'s, joke, 224. 
Tucker, Jno. Randolph, 156. 

159- 
Tucker, H. St. George, 184. 
Turner, J. Marshall, 177-184. 
Turner, of Georgia, 217. 
Tyler, John, 2-32, 256. 
Tyler, Mrs., 21, 22, 31. 

u 



Union of the Whigs for the sake 

of the Union, 8, 9. 
Upshur, Abel P., secretary, 

killed, 21, 22. 
U. S. flag, an old friend, 43. 
Underwood, Judge J. C, 118. 
U. S. Atty. in Va., 155. 
U. S. Atty. in N. Y., 224, 225. 
Union League Club, Chicago, 

219. 
U. S. Mil. Academy, 207. 



Van Burenism, 7, 9, 17, 
Virginia thoroughbred speech, 

205. 
Virginia Mil. Ins., 84. 
Visit to President Buchanan, 

59, 60. 
Vroom, Hon. Peter D., 580 



W 

Wade, Ben., 70. 
Walker, Gen. R. L., 78. 
Walkerton, Va., 174, 181. 
Wallace, McKinley opponent, 

157- 
Ward, Ferdinand, 123. 
Washburn, W. D., 158. 
Washington, Booker, 265. 
Washington, D. C, 13, 45, 46, 

47, 60. 
Webb, Seward, 242. 
Webb, H. Walter, 242. 
Westminster K. Club, 241. 
West Point and West Pointers, 

88, 207, 246. 
"Wheatland," Mr. Buchanan's 

home, 56,57. 
Wheeler, Clint, 150. 
Wheeler, General Joe, 156, 

250. 
Whigs, 7, 8, 9, II, 12, 102. 
White House dinners, 24. 
Williamsburg, (Va.), I2, 13, 14. 
Wilmington, (Del.), 42, 115. 
Wilson, James, (Iowa), 157. 
Wilson, Wm. L. (W. Va.) 
Winchester, (Va.), 215. 
Wine, a plenty, food scarce, 26. 
Wise, Geo. D., 146, 156, 159. 
Wise, Henry A., 1-3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 

8, 9, 18,1 9, 20, 2 1 , 28, 29, 30, 

35, 43, 44, 53, 5^, 63, no, 

III, 123, 124,213. 
Wise, Hugh D., 93, 124, 206, 

231, 232, 251. 
Wise, O. Jennings, 44, 58. 
Wise, J. S., 155, 158, 164. 



Young, John Russell, 172. 
York River, 4. 
Youthful impressions of Mr. 
Tyler, 3. | 



^ 



I 



